


That Dreamlike Candlelight

by RedBerrie



Series: The Hamil-ABO 'Verse [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alpha!TJeffs, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Lovers, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Omega!Alexander, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 44,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9059986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedBerrie/pseuds/RedBerrie
Summary: Alexander Hamilton wasn't just any omega. He had proved himself time and again just as fit for office as any Alpha. He had earned a right to be in rooms such as these, had earned a place amongst the most powerful men and women in the country. And he'd be damned if he'd let a few hot-headed Alphas take that away from him.
A.K.A., the A/B/O Fake-Marriage Hamilton fic that you didn't even realize you needed until you saw it just right now in the queue.





	1. The Ball

**Author's Note:**

> For those unfamiliar with A/B/O dynamics: Alpha/beta/omega is a secondary sexual characteristic, or endotype, that determines your place in society. In my universe, gender has very little impact, and race has no impact, on social standing. Alphas (the rarest endotype at about 15% of the population) are at the top, and omegas (the most common endotype, about 50% of the population) are at the bottom. Alphas are stereotyped as strong, aggressive, go-getters who are natural leaders; omegas are seen as delicate and defenseless, okay in intellectual pursuits but shouldn't be trusted with any big decisions. Betas are the middle, not one or the other, neutral. All three types have amazing senses of smell.
> 
> The rest you can probably figure out as you go.

It all started simply enough. It started with a party.

James Madison, former Virginia Senator, was throwing a Winter Holiday Ball at his estate in Virginia. Although currently retired from public service, Madison still had his fingers in a lot of different pies. If the rumors were true, he also threw an amazing party.

There was just one problem.

Alexander started suspiciously at the evite on his laptop, looking at the guest list. Thomas Jefferson, the current Virginia Senator. Angelica Schuyler-Church, New York Senator. Hercules Mulligan, Director of the CIA. Henry Laurens, South Carolina Senator. Henry Knox, Secretary of Defense. The heaviest name of all: George Washington, President of the United States. A few other names he recognized, Senators and Secretaries and Supreme Court Justices and other men and women whose faces were regularly featured on C-SPAN.

Then, tacked on to the end like an afterthought, his own name. Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury.

He scanned the list of attendees again. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alex would be the only non-Alpha within five miles of Montpelier; or, at least, the only non-Alpha not wearing a servant's uniform.

The thought would have made a lesser man retreat. All those dominant personalities and pheromones in a confined space was enough to give even the strongest omega an anxiety attack.

But Alexander Hamilton wasn't just any omega. He had proved himself time and again just as fit for office as any Alpha. He had earned a right to be in rooms such as these, had earned a place amongst the most powerful men and women in the country. And he'd be damned if he'd let a few hot-headed Alphas take that away from him.

He hit the “Accept” button.

* * *

The Ball was, of course, absolutely beautiful. There was just enough green and red to peg it as a Christmas party in disguise, and just enough snowflake décor to please the more aggressively politically correct. There were even several Kwanzaa and Hanukkah ornaments hanging on the (massive) Christmas tree.

Alex stopped himself from fiddling with his navy blue bowtie and instead took a sip from the wine glass that had been pressed into his hand the moment he had been identified as a guest. He wasn't nervous at all, of course; he just wasn't used to wearing a tuxedo.

Nor was he used to this much attention. He was one of the only omegas in a sea of Alphas, and an unmated omega at that. Alphas smiled at him and made small talk with him, and used any excuse they could think of to make physical contact. A hand laid on his shoulder while laughing. A handshake that lasted just a few beats too long. An Alpha who stood just a little too close. At one point, Jefferson even brushed a tendril of hair out of his face. All subconsciously wanting to leave their scent on him. He was going to reek of ambition and competitiveness and _Alpha_ by the end of the evening.

All the attention would be flattering, if it was for him instead of for each other. He wasn't stupid enough to believe himself anything other than a pawn to be used to boost some Alpha's social standing, in an environment heady with the smells of dozens of high-ranking peers.

Fortunately, he had company. Senator Laurens had brought his son, a man about Alex's age named John who had gone into medicine. The Senator made a valiant attempt at sounding proud when introducing his omegan heir to the other partygoers, but Alex had seen enough Alpha parents disappointed at their sons or daughters being born beta or omega to see through the ruse. John himself, however, was fascinating. Intelligent, funny, straightforward, and absolutely adorable. It looked like a bomb had exploded on his face and scattered freckles instead of shrapnel everywhere. Alex wondered who he lived with; ever since Lafayette had returned to France, Alex had been living alone, and he missed the company of another omega. Unmated omegas often formed nests, or groups of roommates, who would provide emotional and physical (and, usually, sexual) support to one another, and could form bonds just as strong as any Alpha-omega bond. Even if the Law didn't see it that way.

Alex had John's number by dinner, and spent much of the meal texting. He ignored Mrs. Schuyler-Church when the Senator reached over to fill his water glass for him and practically dragged herself across his chest to do so.

Nothing about the evening had been particularly surprising, fortunately enough. Nothing, at least, until the floor were cleared after the dinner course and the band started playing a waltz. And enough, he decided firmly, was enough. There was absolutely no way he was allowing Alpha after Alpha to drag him out on that floor. He pretended that he didn't see General Lee walking his way and instead made a bee-line for the bar.

* * *

Jefferson found him there several hours later. “There you are,” the Southerner said. “I had been wondering where you disappeared off to.”

Alex tried not to scowl too hard. “ 'M not dancing,” he informed the Alpha.

For some reason, Jefferson found this funny. “Hamilton, I don't think you could dance right now if your life depended on it. How many of these have you had?”

It took a moment to realize that Jefferson was referring to the cocktail glass in his hand. “Three,” he replied. Three should be about right. Or maybe four.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh,” he deadpanned. “Come with me.” With that, he got a firm grip on Alex's elbow and started to drag him away.

Offended, Alex scoffed. “Nuh,” he announced. “Where're 'e going?”

“To find you a room,” was Jefferson's answer. “There is no way you're driving back to DC in the state you're in. We'll just find James and have him put you up in one of his guest rooms, and you can drive back in the morning. Simple.”

It was not, in fact, simple. “Sorry, Thomas,” Madison said, shaking his head. “There are a lot of people in from New York, and I don't have any guests rooms left.” He paused, thoughtful. “I could probably find an air mattress somewhere ...”

Jefferson shook his head at the suggestion. The movement made his curls bounce about his head in an amusing way. Alex giggled to himself at the sight.

“I'll just take him back to Monticello with me,” Jefferson said, giving Alex an odd look. Alex realized he was still giggling and stopped. “It's just a half-hour drive, and I've already called my driver.”

Once again, Jefferson got a grip on his elbow and was tugging him towards the door. The last thing Alex would remember of the evening was Jefferson stuffing him in the backseat of a car then climbing in beside him. Jefferson said something to the driver, then suddenly leaned towards Alex and inhaled sharply. “Hamilton,” he said, an offended look on his face. “You reek.”

* * *

Thomas woke up the next morning in his familiar bedroom, hung over and with a general feeling like something was different. It didn't take him long to figure out what that something was – a figure had buried itself in the hollow of his right side and curled around him. Dark hair pooled across his chest, and he could feel his bedmate's breath ghost along his skin with every exhale.

His first reaction, half-asleep as he was, was of comfort. His bedmate was warm and cozy, and he settled back into the mattress for a moment with a general feeling of security and rightness. Absentmindedly, his thumb traced circles on his companion's back.

Then the figure beside him shifted, and he realized that he had no idea who was curled up beside him. Tentatively, he leaned forward and inhaled. Hamilton's scent filled his nostrils just as the figure shifted again, and something soft and fleshy dragged itself over his thigh.

He gave himself a moment to process the alarming events that had happened so far, then another moment to prepare himself, before lifting up the sheets to peek underneath.

Fortunately, he was still wearing his boxers.

Unfortunately, Hamilton was not. In fact, Hamilton wasn't wearing anything at all.

Most unfortunate of all, the fleshy thing on his thigh was exactly what he was afraid it was.

He hadn't yet figured out how he felt about these facts when the cold air roused his sleeping companion. Hamilton groaned and scrunched up his face, undoubtedly suffering from a hangover significantly worse than Thomas'. He ground down into Thomas, undoubtedly just seeking the warmth of the body next to him.

Thomas could see the exact moment when Hamilton realized that something was wrong. His entire body stiffened. Like something out of a movie, the dark hair rose off his chest as Hamilton slowly turned his head to see the face of his bedmate.

The look of horror that crossed his face when he made eye contact with Thomas was oddly amusing. “Mornin', Sunshine,” Thomas greeted him cheerfully.

Hamilton shrieked and jumped back. Unfortunately, the bed (while large) wasn't _that_ large, and so Hamilton ended up a naked, writhing mess of sheets and skin on the floor.

Thomas was very, very careful not to laugh.

Hamilton got himself straight in a surprisingly swift manner, wrapped the sheet around his hips, and stood up. “What the hell, Jefferson?!” he demanded.

Thomas couldn't hold back the laughter any longer; the look of confused terror and rage on Hamilton's face was just too funny. The terror gave way more and more to the rage as Thomas tried to control his guffaws. “Relax, man,” he insisted, holding up his hand in a placating gesture. “You were drunk off your ass last night, so I took you home to my place. You apparently didn't get the message about the guest room, and decided to take the master suite instead, even though it was already occupied. No harm.”

This little speech did nothing to calm Hamilton; in fact, if anything, he looked even more terrified. “Look, seriously, no harm,” Thomas tried again. “It's hardly the first time I've shared a bed with a friend, and I doubt it's any different for you, so just-”

“Your hand,” Hamilton interrupted him.

It was Thomas' turn to look confused. His hand? He held up his right hand, examining it closely. Nothing seemed to be amiss; there didn't seem to be any visible cuts or scrapes or burns or blood or anything …

“Your other hand,” Hamilton insisted, irritated.

Thomas was a little annoyed at that irritation, but held up his left hand obediently. Then froze.

A simple golden band was wrapped snugly around the fourth finger of his left hand.

His eyes darted back to Hamilton, who was rearranging the sheets to hold up his own left hand. A matching golden band glittered from his own ring finger.

“No,” Thomas muttered in horror. “No, no, no, no.” He dug out his iPhone, pulled up his banking app, and punched in his password.

A new debit sat at the top of the queue, from the State Bonding Board of Virginia.

“It's okay,” Hamilton stated, seeing the look on his face and realizing what it meant. “You're still in your boxers, right?”

Thomas realized where he was going with this, and nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “So it's not like we … ah, _consummated_ the bond.”

“Exactly,” Hamilton parroted. “So, we just have to go down to the Courthouse and get the bond annulled. Easy.” Warming up to his plan, Hamilton shifted from one foot to another. And winced.

The significance of that wince wasn't lost on either man. Both froze for a moment, horrified, before springing into action. Hamilton ran into the bathroom, undoubtedly to examine himself, as Thomas looked around the bedroom desperately.

The crusty washrag on the floor beside the bed was all the confirmation he needed.

Hamilton came out of the bathroom much slower than he went in, a look of shock on his face. Thomas knew how he felt.

“That damn bill,” Thomas muttered to himself, throwing the washrag down.

The Omega Bonding Bill had passed just last year, with bipartisan support. It had been meant to stop the frankly ridiculous cases of Alpha scams on omegas where an Alpha would promise to enter into a pairbond with the omega, even going so far as to have the pair legally bound, just to sleep with the omega; then have the bond annulled in the morning. The new law stated that all Alpha-omegan bonds couldn't be annulled within the first year of marriage, and that both partners must reside at the same address.

“You just had to shoot down that clause that allowed for annulment with the omega's consent, didn't you?” Thomas bit out at Hamilton.

Hamilton bristled at the accusation. “Yes, I did,” he bit right back. “Or predatory Alphas would have just bullied their omegan victims into agreeing to-”

“Oh, so now omegas _are_ defenseless victims, are they, _Mr. Omegan-Rights_?”

“Excuse you, just because _some_ omegas aren't helpless victims doesn't mean that _all_ omegas aren't-”

“That's dangerously close to stereotyping, don't you-”

“No, it's not, because I'm not-”

“Oh, yes you are, _Sweetie_ , that's exactly what-”

“How dare you-!”

Both men jumped and were quieted by an unfamiliar _ding_ from the mess of blankets where Hamilton had rolled out of bed earlier. Silently, Hamilton padded over and dug his own phone out of the pile to unlock it. “It's from Washington,” he said, confused. That confusion turned to alarm as he read the text, then mutely held it up for Thomas to read. “How did he know?” he whined.

Thomas read the text on the phone's screen, and could only shake his head in confusion.

* * *

> _**From: G.Wash** _ _  
> Call me ASAP._


	2. The Plan

_Thomas bundled Hamilton into the back of his black Mercedes, then walked around to the other side and got in himself. The small omega was very drunk, and Thomas had to admit that it was an adorable look – cheeks flushed, surprisingly clingy, giggly and mischievous. "Back to Monticello, please, Samuel," Thomas told the driver, before turning back to his guest._

_In the close confines of the car, a very important fact became very evident, very fast. A miasma of odor wafted persistently from the other side of the car. Thomas leaned forward to help Hamilton buckle his seat belt and unexpectedly got a noseful. He realized that the omega smelled strongly of almost every single Alpha that had been at the party. "Hamilton," Thomas said, scrunching his nose up unhappily. "You reek."_

_"Do not," insisted the drunk omega. "Maybe you reek, huh? Yeah, y- you reek."_

_Thomas didn't dignify that with a response, focusing instead on bringing the clasp of the seat belt into the buckle, then sitting back as far as he could and digging the Febreze out of the pocket behind the driver's seat. Dousing Hamilton down in Lavender-scented Fabric Refresher didn't completely get rid of the conflicting scents, but it at least helped to break them down. Hamilton himself sputtered and protested the treatment, but said nothing as he watched Thomas return the spray bottle to its place._

_They spent the next few minutes riding in silence before, predictably, Hamilton was the one to break it. “You don't haveta do this, ya know?” he insisted._

_Thomas frowned, thinking about what his late mother would say if she learned that he refused hospitality to a drunk coworker. “Yes, I do,” he replied. Then thought about how controlling that might sound to someone not raised in Southern culture. “You're my responsibility,” he tried to explain._

_Unfortunately, judging from Hamilton's expression, that was the very worse thing he could say. “What'd tha' mean?” the omega demanded, face clouding with rage._

“ _It means I feel a sense of responsibility to make sure you're cared for,” Thomas tried again._

_It didn't work. “Oh, I see,” Hamilton glowered. “The big, bad Alpha gon- gonna take care o' the poor, defenseless omega, tha' it?”_

_It was Thomas' turn to frown. “No,” he replied. “It means that you're my guest. Christ, Hamilton, is everything about endotype to you?”_

_Surprisingly enough, the other man didn't have a response ready._

_They sat for another few minutes of silence, before Thomas broke it. “I'm not ready to go to bed,” he announced. “You want to do something?”_

_Hamilton seemed to consider for a moment. “ 'M hungry,” he announced, seemingly surprised by this momentous revelation. Then punctuated the statement with a loud belch, which actually made him jump._

_Thomas shook his head at the drunk man's antics, but couldn't help the smile on his face. “Samuel,” he addressed the driver. “My friend and I have decided to extend our evening's activities. Take us to the Downtown Mall, please.” He sat back, then turned back to Hamilton. “Yearbook Taco Bar is open 'til 2.”_

* * *

Alex looked down at his phone, shocked. “How did he know?” he implored.

Behind him, Jefferson cleared his throat. “I think I may know,” he stated, almost sheepishly, and held up his own phone.

On its screen was a photo of himself and Jefferson exiting a Bonding Office. He was leaning on Jefferson, and both men seemed to be laughing. Although the photo was blurry and of a poor quality, undoubtedly taken with a cellphone, the identities of the two men were unquestionable.

“We're, ah, we're trending on Twitter, Tumblr, and half a dozen celebrity websites.”

Alex just stared at the photo for a moment, trying to register what this all meant. No one else had texted him yet; but it was undoubtedly only a matter of time. Most of his friends had been at parties of their own, and were probably sleeping off their own hangovers. He had to get ahead of this while he still could.

“Alright,” he said, and began to pull up Washington's contact.

“What are you doing?” Jefferson demanded, and Alex could almost feel his metaphorical hackles raise along with his temper.

“I'm calling Washington,” he replied, and hit the call button.

Or, at least, he would have hit the call button, if his phone wasn't suddenly on the floor. Jefferson picked it up from where he had knocked it out of Alex's hand. “And what, pray tell, are you gonna say, hmm?” he drawled.

Damn him to Hell and back, he was right. “Fine,” he huffed, holding his hand out for his phone.

Jefferson dropped it there graciously. “First things first,” he said, and disappeared into the bathroom. He came back a moment later, holding a bottle of Tylenol and two small paper cups of water.

Alex scrunched his nose up at the disposable cups. “That's wasteful,” he reminded the other man.

“I recycle them,” Jefferson replied. “Not important right now. We have to be very, _very_ careful about how we proceed in the next few days. Because this relationship? Could very quickly turn into a scandal. A scandal that could very easily ruin both our careers.”

He meant a scandal that could ruin Alex's career. Half of the country was more than happy to pounce at every mistake he made as an example of why omegas shouldn't be in politics as anything other than secretaries and errand-runners. And this? This could give those people all the ammunition they needed to make sure he never so much as made manager at his local McDonald's ever again.

Jefferson? Jefferson would be fine. What was one more Alpha who took an omega as a lover, only for the whole thing to turn sour? It happened all the time. Alexander? Alexander would be painted as the vacillating omega who stamped his name all over a bill just last year that had serious ramifications in his own life this year. The omega who didn't know what he wanted. The omega who couldn't be trusted with decisions that affected the lives of the entire country's population.

“That damn bill,” he muttered under his breath. Not softly enough, apparently; Jefferson heard it and chuckled. Alex jerked his head up, ready to be offended by Jefferson's amusement at his predicament; only to find that the Alpha's face was soft in agreement.

“We're happily married,” Jefferson stated. Alex could only hum in reply. “We've been dating in secret for a few months. Last night, we got a little drunk, and took a step that we might not should have, but that ultimately we're happy with. Bonding was inevitable; it just happened a little faster that we would have liked.” Alpha-omega bonds were usually formalized rather quickly, and were rarely precipitated by a large ceremony; if they had honestly been seeing each other, a trip to the Bonding Office would have been the eventual result. The only change would have been that both partners would have made it known to their friends, so that those friends could offer their congratulations and possibly even be present, if the friend and the couple so chose. Oh, and they would have been sober.

Alex studied Jefferson through his eyelashes. They could make this work. Jefferson wasn't unattractive by any stretch of the imagination. His beliefs may be shit, and he might have buried his head in the sand a little deeper than Alex liked; but as long as Jefferson kept his mouth shut and didn't go off on too many pro-farmer, anti-government rants, Alex could probably keep himself from strangling Jefferson to death in his sleep.

Jefferson. Sleep. That was another thing. “We're going to have to, ah,” Alex said, suddenly shy.

“Have to what?” Jefferson asked, confused.

In way of reply, Alex could only gesture to the bed.

Jefferson's responding blush made Alex feel better about his own sudden shyness. But the other man couldn't refute the truth of what Alex was saying.

Proof that the couple weren't a true pairbond would be worth thousands to any gossip rag in the country. A disgruntled maid, noticing that neither man smelled like the other, or that the room didn't smell like sex, could blow the entire farce up right in their faces.

“Then I suppose, ah, you should call me Thomas,” Jefferson stated.

Alex nodded in agreement.

“And I should call you … Alexander?”

Alex made a face. “Alex, please,” he replied. His full name was long and unnecessary, and didn't feel like him.

“Alex, then,” Jefferson – Thomas – said.

“Thomas,” Alex replied.

Both men stood there for a moment, resolutely looking anywhere but at each other. Alex wasn't sure what to do with his hands.

“I'm not lying to Washington,” Alex finally said.

Thomas snorted. “I'm not lying to James,” he replied.

Alex nodded in agreement. “I suppose I should make that call, then.”

* * *

“Alexander,” the voice of the President of the United States came through imposing, even over the crappy speakers of Hamilton's cellphone. “Son.” Hamilton winced, and wasn't that an interesting reaction? “What in Hell is going on?”

“Sir, I can explain,” Hamilton – Alex – began.

“I can understand the desire to have a mate,” Washington continued as if Alex hadn't spoken. “But _Jefferson_? You two hate each other.”

Alex winced again. “I don't actually _hate_ him,” he back-pedaled.

Washington sighed. “Alex, bonding is a major step, one that should be taken after careful consideration,” he began, as if this were the most bizarre father-son moment Thomas had ever witnessed. “Bonding shouldn't be seen lightly, as just a-”

“ _We didn't mean to get bonded_ ,” Hamilton all but shouted, apparently having reached the limits of his patience. “We were drunk, Jefferson was letting me crash at his house, and somehow that all led to a Bonding Office at-” Alex checked something on his phone “-11:48 in the evening.”

There was complete silence on the other end of the phone, that stretched on for longer than Thomas was comfortable with. He was just starting to get a little concerned for the old man's health when he replied. “And you plan to see this through?” he asked.

Alex hesitated for only a moment. “Yes,” he stated.

The pause this time wasn't nearly as long. “I don't want to see either of you in D.C. for a week,” he stated firmly, in a voice that left no room for argument. “It's not too unusual for Alpha and omega pair-bonds to take a honeymoon of sorts. As of right now, you two are on your honeymoon. Stay in Charlottesville. Take in the sights. Explore the city. Let the public see you happy together.”

“Sir,” Alex spoke up, “with all due respect, I don't think 'taking in the sights' worked too well for us last time.”

There was a beat of silence, before something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh came over the speakers. “Charlottesville is a beautiful city,” he replied, although his voice held a little more levity than it had before. “There's plenty to do for a young couple in love. Just … stay away from government buildings, hmm?”

Alex laughed at the joke, although it didn't sound very natural. “Yes, sir,” he responded.

“Oh, and Alex? Son?” The levity in Washington's voice was gone. “If you can't pull this off, if word gets out that this bond is a farce? I'll do what I can, but I'm not sure how much I can help.”

Alex swallowed dryly. “Understood, sir,” he replied.

The line went dead, and Alex locked the phone and pocketed it. Thomas didn't realize how tense he had been through that phone call until he felt himself relax.

Then realized that he was going to have to explain himself to James, as well as decide exactly how much to tell several other friends and members of his party, and felt himself tense up all over again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I actually live in the Charlottesville area, every place I talk about in and around Charlottesville is an actual place that you can actually go to. Except for the Bonding Office, those things don't really exist. Everything else does, though. And, yes, Charlottesville is a beautiful city that the city government takes great pains to keep aesthetically pleasing and clean, and I would completely recommend visiting.
> 
> The Downtown Mall is great, a place that tourists as well as locals visit regularly. It's one of the longest pedestrian malls in the country, and features a lot of really, really cool architecture, as well as unique shops and restaurants, and several concert venues. And the Charlottesville City Hall, for some reason. If you want to see some photos or get some idea of what it looks like, you can [visit the Mall's homepage](http://www.downtowncharlottesville.net/).


	3. The Beginnings

_They didn't end up going to the Taco Bar, after Samuel dropped them off at the wrong end of the Mall. There was still plenty of nightlife here, though. The Commonwealth Skybar was still open. Thomas thought about dragging Hamilton up to the rooftop bar, with its view of the Mall all lit up for the holidays, but decided that it was just too cold. Instead, they stayed inside, claiming one of the circular booths for themselves._

_Hamilton didn't seem to notice the distinct lack of Latino food on the menu. Instead, he was more than happy to order (mostly via pointing to the menu) the Lemon Pepper Wings and a sparkling water. Thomas ordered a Three Notch'd 40 Mile IPA._

_Hamilton clumsily rose an eyebrow in surprise. “I thought you 'ere a wine type?” he smirked._

_Thomas shrugged. “I dabble,” he responded. “Wine is wonderful – remind me to let you try a bottle of the stuff I bottle at Monticello – but there's nothing quite like a good strong IPA on a cold night.”_

_He half-expected some sort of snide remark at this confession, but Hamilton was oddly silent._

_Their order came. They ate and drank happily, and Thomas was surprised as the conversation stayed light and pleasant. Hamilton sobered up enough to actually speak in complete sentences, and Thomas felt the buzz in his blood deepen with the new infusion of alcohol. He ordered a hummus with pita chips; Hamilton ordered another water._

_They started the evening on opposite sides of the booth, but they didn't remain that way. Maybe it was when Hamilton insisted on Thomas trying a wing. Maybe it was when Thomas showed Hamilton photos of Monticello on his phone, insisting that it was far nicer when the flowers were in bloom._

_Either way, at some point Thomas looked up from his beer to find that at some point, Hamilton had scooted around the booth towards him; and that, without realizing it, Thomas had scooted around to meet him. The omega's hips and thighs were pressed against Thomas' own. Thomas found the sensation rather cozy and comfortable._

_The night flowed on._

* * *

“I don't know, James, it just happened!” Alex winced as the quiet muttering from the bedroom abruptly erupted into clear yelling. There was a pause; then, “I know that! Do you not think I don't know that?! I helped write the fucking thing!”

Alex sat on the seat of the toilet in the master bathroom, rolling his own phone over and over in his hand. His biggest and most difficult phone conversation had been with Washington; other than that, a call to Lafayette and a few texts had done the trick. He was mainly in here, hiding out, while Jeffer-  _Thomas_ had some privacy making his own calls to friends and family.

Thomas, as Alex had come to appreciate, had a lot of friends and family.

For some reason, the Alpha had saved his best friend for last. It wasn't a bad idea, Alex thought as he continued to play with his phone. Get used to the feel and the flow of the words in your mouth, so that they were natural when you made the call that actually mattered.

Idly, Alex wondered how many of those calls Thomas had told the truth. How many thought that they were a legitimate couple, and how many knew better. He trusted Thomas to only tell those people Thomas felt trustworthy, but, well …

Alex shuddered. A career-ending secret, and he didn't even know how many people knew.

A sudden knock on the bathroom door made him jump. “I'm finished,” Jefferson's voice came through the door.

Alex came out gratefully, only to stop short when Thomas frowned at him. “Did you happen to bring a change of clothes?” he asked.

That was how Alex remembered that he was still only wearing a bedsheet. “I wasn't expecting to stay the night,” Alex reminded Thomas, a little sharper than he intended. He willed himself not to blush.

“We need to fix that,” Thomas replied, pulling out his phone. “What size do you wear?”

“Excuse me?” Alex snapped, already looking for the remains of last night's tux. They were scattered over a fairly impressive range.

“What size do you wear,” Thomas asked again, a little snap in his own voice. “Or did you plan on going clothes shopping in my bedsheets?”

The flush spreading across his face was undeniable. “Touché,” he replied, and rattled out his numbers. Jefferson copied them down as Alex checked under the bed.

There was no answering motion from the other side of the room. Alex peeked around to find Thomas studying his upturned ass.

Now it was Thomas' turn to flush. “I'll have Abraham get you a few things,” he announced, turning all his attention to furiously typing something out on his phone.

Alex felt his own cheeks redden as he returned to looking under the bed, but couldn't help the small smile that played over his lips. At least they were attracted to one another. It would make the year go by a little faster, he supposed.

* * *

Hamilton had no idea what he had done, Thomas knew. That pert little ass up in the air, covered by nothing but a thin sheet, just begging to be caressed. It was indecent. Thomas could see the cleft of his cheeks shadowed through the thin fabric. He swallowed hard, and shot out a text to Abraham, keeping his eyes down.

At his foot was a pile of dull green cotton – Alex's boxer briefs. He picked them up and cleared his throat to get Hamilton's attention.

The omega's head shot up from the ground as he stood up. He saw what Thomas held in his hands, and a funny little smile shot across his face before leaving just as fast. Thomas had just enough time to wonder what that smile was, before Alex walked across the room, took his briefs without a word, and dropped the sheet.

Thomas felt himself go cold and hot at the same time. He swallowed again, desperately thinking of every unsexy thing he could while staring resolutely at the wall. It didn't matter; he could feel the material of his boxers start to tent.

Alex noticed, of course. Alex noticed and actually  _laughed_ . “You looked this morning,” he reminded Thomas; and damn if that didn't make things worse.

“Abrahamwillhaveyourclothessoon,” Thomas said, unable to talk slower. He pulled his dresser open and grabbed the first sweater and pair of jeans his hands touched and pulled them on while fleeing the room.

Behind his back, he heard the omega still laughing.

* * *

Sex with Thomas Jefferson wasn't just going to be a burden to bear; it might actually be  _fun_ . Alex pulled the briefs on, still smiling, then draped the sheet back around him and pulled out his phone to play Toy Blast while he waited.

* * *

Thomas' staff didn't do anything halfway. When Abraham knocked on the bedroom door and presented the clothes he had purchased to Alex, it was in the form of a veritable wardrobe. Two sweaters, a button-down, a cardigan, two pair of jeans, and a pair of khakis were draped across the bed. Two pairs of loafers, several pairs of socks in different cuts, three undershirts, and three pairs of boxer briefs accompanied it all. Abraham and the servants who had carried it all in left while Alex surveyed the expanse of clothes, trying to decide whether to laugh or blush or both.

They had left the price tags on everything. Alex peeked at the tag for the cardigan and swore. He was a prominent figure in the public eye, and even he didn't spend half this much on an item of clothing. The spread in front of him cost more than some unlucky souls made in an entire year.

He decided on the cardigan over one of the jeans, and left the room feeling like the cover shot for  _GQ_ .

Thomas was in the living room waiting for him. He walked in, still trying to decide whether he should be angry or grateful at the Alpha for his generosity, when the sight before him stopped him dead in his tracks.

He had only ever seen Senator Jefferson at work, wearing a bespoke suit of one sort or another. Never in his life had he had cause to wonder what Jefferson wore when not at work, what the man considered casual attire for relaxing around the home or going out for a casual meal.

The answer: fuck-me jeans so tight that Alex was pretty sure he could see the outline of the man's dick.

He remembered the tease he had given the Alpha earlier, and decided that this must be his punishment.

Thomas looked up from his phone, and hummed a greeting. “I thought we could go get some breakfast?” he suggested, already headed for the door.

Alex followed along obediently, sneaking peeks at Thomas' ass when he could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three Notch'd Brewing Company is a brewing company based in Charlottesville that's named after Three Notch'd Road, a major thoroughfare through Charlottesville in colonial times. "40 Mile", their main IPA, is named after the ride Jack Jouett made in 1781 to warn Governor Thomas Jefferson that Cornwallis had learned of their location and had sent over 200 men to capture him and other Virginian leaders where they were hiding out in Monticello. This warning allowed Jefferson and everyone else to get away safely. I thought it a cute reference for my story.


	4. The Outing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut Happens™.

By the time both men were ready to leave, breakfast was over and they were well into the “lunch” portion of the day. Fortunately, a 15 minute drive put them at Tip Top, a diner that served breakfast all day.

“Tip Top?” Alex asked when they pulled in the parking lot.

“Of the mountain. Pantops Mountain. We're at the tip top.” Thomas explained.

“No, we're not,” Alex reminded him. “We just came over the 'tip top' of the mountain, to get here. Remember?”

Thomas just gave him A Look. “It's not literal, Alexander,” he replied, and Alex tried not to smirk at the use of his full name.

One look at Thomas' face got them seated quicker than Alex would have thought possible. Apparently, the Alpha was known here. Their waitress, a bubbly little beta woman, didn't even ask Thomas for his drink order. Just took Alex's and left.

Alex looked around at his surroundings. “Retro,” he commented at the faux 50s décor.

Thomas just shrugged. “They make good waffles,” he told Alex, as if that explained everything. “But they serve a lot of other dishes, if you're not in the mood for breakfast.”

The omega opened his menu and realized that was an understatement. “I can't decide whether I want Greek or pizza. Or a steak. Oh, that have pasta! Really, at this point, I'm just surprised they don't offer Thai food.”

Thomas looked at him over his menu, looking genuinely hurt. “I just wanted to show you my hometown, Sweetheart,” he said, putting his hand over Alex's. Alex came within a hair of asking Jefferson what he thought he was doing, before remembering. Public. Right. “I used to come here and eat as a boy.”

“Of course,” Alex replied, fighting the urge to flick Thomas' hand off of his own. “Forgive me … Sweetie.” He was going to have to work on that; the pause was almost long enough to not sound natural. Thomas' eyes flashed meaningfully at Alex for a split-second before softening again. “What do you recommend?”

In the end, Alex got an omelet, Thomas got the steak and eggs, and they got a waffle to split. And, damn it all if the whole thing wasn't delicious.

* * *

Halfway through their meal, a short jingle made itself known from Hamilton's back pocket. Alex pulled his phone out, looked at the screen, and winced. He made no move to put the phone away, however; instead, he just stared at the screen with a look of chagrin on his face.

After a time, Thomas decided that enough was enough; they hadn't been recognized yet, but that could change at any time, and the omega wasn't exactly giving off the “happily bonded” vibe that was the whole point of this outing. “Is everything okay, Sweetie?” he asked with his best Southern-beau voice.

The omega didn't reply, just showed Thomas his phone. There was a text message on the screen.

> _**From: John <3** _ _  
> Wtf man??? Ur bonded? Wtf was last nite???????_

Thomas snorted and sat back in his chair, attempting to seem as nonchalant as possible. Inside, however, his stomach was rolling. “Who's John?” he asked in as steady a voice as he could manage, casually cutting another bite of steak.

There was no answer from Alex; instead, Thomas looked up finally to see Alex studying him, amused. “An omega I met last night. Are you jealous?” the other man teased.

“No, of course not,” Thomas scoffed. Then realized that the diners in the booths to either side were shooting him looks. Which is how he realized that he was unconsciously pressing the scent glands behind his ears, flooding the dining room with his scent – a challenge to any Alpha foolish enough to try and take what was his. A challenge meant for an _omega_. A challenge meant for an omega _who wasn't even present_.

He immediately stopped, schooling his face and his pheromones into as calm a state as possible. Trying not to blush, he busied himself with the rest of his meal.

Alex said nothing in response; he didn't have to. The smirk he shot at the Alpha from time to time told Thomas just how easily Hamilton saw through his lie.

* * *

They almost made it out without being recognized. Almost. But as they were leaving, a group of teenagers was giggling amongst themselves and stealthily snapping pictures with their phones. Thomas didn't say anything, and pretended not to see. He wondered for a moment if Alex had noticed the attention; but only for a moment, because then Alex caught his hand firmly in his own. Thomas, grateful that the other man was on the same page, tucked Alex into his body and rested his chin on top of the omega's head while they waited for the car.

He couldn't be certain, but he was pretty sure he heard sighs and “awww”s coming from the table of teenagers.

Playing the part of doting Alpha to the end, he opened the door for Alex before walking around to the other side. Samuel put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb smoothly.

Taking a left-hand turn out of any parking lot along the strip of road they were on was always tricky; they were going to be there a few minutes. Thomas took advantage of the stop to unbuckle Alex's seat belt. The omega barely had time to shoot him a questioning look before Thomas grabbed him by the hips and bodily pulled him to himself. Luxury cars such as the one they were in often had a double-occupancy seat belt in the back seat for just such an occasion; Thomas pulled it out of its recess and buckled it into place around both Hamilton and himself.

Alex shot him a look that obviously was supposed to be fond but that came out a mixture of incredulous and offended. Thomas ignored him, instead reaching around to nip and suck at the pulse point in Alex's neck, starting as far below the collar as he could reach and ending at the sensitive scent gland right behind his ear. Thomas knew that he hit paydirt when he licked around the gland itself and the omega audibly gasped.

Thomas waited until Samuel pulled onto the Interstate before reaching around to unbutton and unzip Alex's jeans. He could feel the omega's heartbeat increase and smell the naked arousal permeating through his skin. Thomas didn't bother pulling the jeans down; instead, he snaked his hand under Alex's boxer briefs to cup his rapidly-hardening dick. Here the Alpha paused a moment, not wanting to do anything that the other man wasn't comfortable with. But the omega's enraptured expression, as well as the way he was softly chittering in excitement, told Thomas everything he needed to know.

He pulled the man's dick out, cupping it to roll the balls through his fingers and feel it stiffen in his hand. He ghosted the nail of his index finger along the shaft to swirl the pad of the finger along the bottom edge of the head.

By this point, Hamilton's cock was fully erect, and Hamilton himself was making so many wonderful noises. Thomas wrapped his hand around the shaft lightly, then bit at Alex's neck when the omega experimentally started to thrust his hips. Alex wasn't in control here; Thomas was. Thomas reached up to play with the precome leaking from the slit and smear it down the shaft.

They were almost to their exit. Thomas began pumping up and down around Alex's dick in earnest, feeling the omega getting closer and closer to release. It didn't take long; three thrusts, and he was there. Thomas leaned forward. “Come for me,” he whispered into the omega's ear, before biting down at the sensitive skin behind his ear as hard as he could without drawing blood.

With a shudder that seem to come from the smaller man's bones, Alex came into Thomas' hand.

Thomas deposited the majority of the mess into a tissue, then pulled out a hand wipe to get rid of the rest. He then used the wipe to clean the come off Alex's dick, enjoying the quick hiss of breath as the cold alcohol came into contact with the still-sensitive skin.

Thomas held the omega through his recovery, feeling the changes in the man's breathing and pulse. It didn't take long; omegas were known for their quick recovery time. Soon, the little shit was using the excuse of trying to get comfortable to rub his ass across Thomas' dick.

They were almost to the drive up Monticello, and Alex began to set himself to rights. Thomas stopped him. “I should make you keep it hanging out,” he growled into Alex's ear. “Show my entire staff what we just did. Show the entire world what a little whore you are.” Alex responded by shivering almost as strongly as he had when he orgasmed, and wasn't that an interesting response?

In the end, Thomas himself zipped and buttoned Alex's jeans around his dick, leaving it out of his briefs. Alex shivered again as the rough denim rubbed against the tender skin with every step he took towards the bedroom.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself I wasn't going to let them have sex quite yet, but I lied to myself.


	5. The Reminder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting this chapter a little later in the evening than I would have liked to, but I had to work late today.

The two lovers all but ran for the bedroom, but they weren't quick enough. “Mr. Jefferson?” Abraham cleared his throat, for all the world like he had been waiting for him. “If I may speak with you a minute, sir?” The look he shot at Alex was pointed.

Thomas felt like groaning in frustration, but knew better than to blow Abraham off – the man was levelheaded and trustworthy. “I'll be there in a minute,” he told Alex, watching as the omega winked at him before turning down the hallway.

Abraham watched him go, too, before turning to Thomas. “There's something I think you should see,” he told him, handing him an iPad.

Thomas studied the screen, reading the words there with a curiosity that quickly turned to anger. “Is this real?” he asked, realizing it was a stupid question as the words were leaving his lips. Of course Abraham confirmed the veracity of what he was showing his employer.

Abraham, for his part, says nothing.

Thomas scrolled down the iPad, feeling his ire rise higher and higher as he read, before deciding that he didn't care. That he _couldn't_ care. “It doesn't matter,” he stated abruptly, all but throwing the tablet back at Abraham. “What's done is done. No amount of small-minded, _prejudiced_ idiots are going to change that.”

He wasn't sure, but it seemed like the corners of Abraham's mouth twitch into something like a smile. “Of course, sir,” the beta responds. “I'm sorry to have bothered you, then.”

“It wasn't a bother,” Thomas is quick to reassure him. “Thank you for bringing this … _matter_ … to my attention.”

Abraham nodded in reply, tucked the iPad under his arm, and left without another word. Thomas turned to his bedroom, desperately trying to recapture the mood before rejoining his mate.

* * *

Alex waited for Thomas to join him in the Alpha's bedroom, but he didn't wait idly. Instead, he tried a variety of poses on the bed, to find the sexiest one he could think of. Then he remembered the car ride, and smirked as he unzipped his jeans and pulled his dick out, and simply sat with his legs spread wide.

That decided, he pulled out his phone to check Twitter while he waited.

The first thing he noticed was the number of tweets that had been posted that mentioned his username. Of course, it was only to be expected. He scrolled through the tweets, noticing a common hashtag – #thalex. Their couple name, he realized, and rolled his eyes. He clicked the hashtag, and saw with some pride and quite a bit of trepidation that it was trending.

The contents of those tweets were mostly what he expected – everything from ecstatic congratulations to hate-fueled vitriol filled his screen. He chuckled at a few tweets that insisted that this bonding was just a stunt to further legitimize his position in government; it wasn't anything he hadn't ever heard before. A couple claimed that Thomas was now the one feeding ideas and decisions to him, to validate his standing in government. That, too, was nothing new; many of his detractors believed that an omega was physically incapable of coming up with any of the ideas and programs that he had implemented during his time as Treasury Secretary, and so believed that they were really the ideas of an Alpha who then carefully coached him into fooling the American public that they were his. Originally that Alpha was Washington; now, he supposed it only logical that the Alpha was Thomas.

As if Thomas would ever help his career in any way.

The thought gave him pause. Well, and of course they were political rivals; this whirlwind of a day may have made him forget that fact temporarily, but not for long. It was fine, he thought, trying not to fidget; lots of couples got along just fine, even if their political beliefs were different. They would just have to set some boundaries, and it would be fine.

It was fine, he thought again, scrolling down farther. And felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

> **Joshua Richardson**   
>  @prowdomega
> 
> @ahamilton I thought you were blazing your own trail without Alpha support. #thalex #omegapride

He had. He had done exactly that – made his own path, blazed his own trail, without needing to accept support or handouts from any Alpha. He had lifted himself up, he had earned the position he was in, and he had done it all using only his own talents and abilities.

Right?

Deep in thought, he looked up from his phone's screen. And, gradually, began to take in the room around him.

They had left the room only an hour ago, torn up, bedding scattered all over the room, and clothes tossed every which way. Now, none of that remained. The room looked … well, the room looked like someone had spent an hour on it. The sheets had been changed, the duvet had been straightened, the pillows had been repositioned on the bed. The carpet had been vacuumed. A fire had been started in the fireplace. The clothes Thomas' servant had brought the omega had been gently laid across a chair in the corner.

Thomas' servants. Thomas' home. Thomas' money.

Well, it all was to be expected, wasn't it? Alex was Thomas', as well, after all. The anticipation in his stomach soured when he thought about the handjob Thomas had just given him in the car – Thomas' car, driven by Thomas' driver, around Thomas' hometown no less. Thomas had pulled Alex into his lap, Thomas had pulled Alex's dick out, Thomas had insisted that Alex do nothing but sit there and take what he was given.

When had he become _that_ omega? The one who let the Alpha call all the shots? The one who had anything to do with an Alpha at all, for Christ's sake. Alex had never taken an Alpha's knot, never let an Alpha into his bed. And he was proud of that. Alexander Hamilton the Omega, risen to one of the most powerful positions in the country, and he did it all without whoring himself out to the Alphas of the world to exchange his body for whatever scraps they were willing to throw him. No, he did it on his own, with only his own brain and his own refusal to let anyone or anything tell him that he wasn't as good as he knew himself to be. And he did it all as an unmated omega.

That was something he had been proud of. Just twenty-four hours ago, that was something he could hold his head high and brag about. If he let another person into his bed, it was as an equal and in the pursuit of mutual pleasure, not because he wanted something from a superior.

Just twenty-four hours ago.

Now?

Now here he was, mated to an Alpha, accepting his tokens without a single thought of repayment, eager to present himself to that Alpha for the second knot of his day. For the second knot of his _life_.

The cherry on this shit sundae that his life had suddenly turned into? He couldn't even remember the first.

He hadn't heard Jefferson enter the room, only caught his scent a split-second before he suddenly found himself splayed out on the bed. The Alpha crouched over him, pressing him back into the duvet, nuzzling his collarbone.

And, God help him, there was a part of him that even now wanted to just lay back and let it happen. That wanted to accept the pleasure Jefferson would give him without thinking about the consequences. That wanted to explore the planes and valleys of the Alpha's body as well, drink him in, let himself be possessed, let himself _be a possession_ …

“No,” he mumbled into Jefferson's hair, trying to disentangle himself from the Alpha's grasp. Jefferson's only response was to growl into his skin and reach up to start unbuttoning his cardigan. “No,” he said louder, pushing Jefferson's hands away.

Jefferson reared back, looking at Alex like he was some previously-unknown and possibly-dangerous species of animal he was studying. “What's wrong, Darling?” he drawled, and that Southern twang mixed with the musky smell of Alpha would have melted the resolve of a weaker man.

“It's too much,” Alex tried to explain to the demigod looking down on him.

“Too much?” the demigod answered, reaching down to card his fingers through Alex's hair.

“Too much,” Alex repeated, warming up to his theme. “Get off?” He tried to push his way up, but the Alpha hovering over him didn't realize what was happening to get out of the way fast enough for Alex and suddenly Alex had had enough. “Get off, Jefferson, you knothead!” he spat, shoving the man off him forcefully.

The Alpha stared at him, wide-eyed, and suddenly he was just Jefferson, just _Thomas_ , but the damage had been done. “Knothead, huh?” Jefferson spat, eyes going cold. “Is that what you think of me, hmm?”

No, he didn't, he realized suddenly. “No, that's not it,” he tried to backpedal. “It's just all happening so fast, and-”

“And that's just what I want, huh? Take advantage of the poor, confused omega to get my rocks off?”

“That's not at all what I was saying and you know it!”

“Uh-huh,” Jefferson said, fixing the collar of his sweater. “Well, when you figure out what it is you're saying, come find me.” He walked towards the bedroom door, leaving Alex unsure whether he should fall to his knees and offer an apology or jump to his feet and demand one. “Oh, and Hamilton?” the Alpha said, hand hovering over the door handle. “Put your dick back in your pants.” And he was gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anyone's scratching their heads over the "knot" thing: In most A/B/O 'verses (including mine), Alpha males have a ring of tissue at the base of their penis, called a knot, that fills out when aroused. It causes the Alpha to be locked, or "knotted", within his partner for a period of time. As you can imagine, the knot has a large place in culture and biology -- omegas who are in heat usually have fewer symptoms and a shorter heat if they are "knotted", leading even further to the culture's preference of Alpha-omega pair-bonds. It's also a common belief that omega-omega sexual relations don't "count", and that an omega is still a virgin until he or she has sex with an Alpha. A "knothead" is an Alpha male who is obsessed with sex and/or the power and prestige it gives them, something like the A/B/O version of a dudebro.


	6. The Grudge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2017!

Thomas stood outside the door and sighed. The bedroom itself was relatively soundproof – one of the many modern upgrades he had made to Monticello when he had inherited it – so no one on his staff had heard their argument. But if he was going to continue to play the part of happily mated Alpha, he couldn't be seen skulking in the parlor mere minutes after he had so obviously gone into the bedroom to be intimate with his mate.

At least he had had the presence of mind not to slam the bedroom door, no matter how good it would have felt.

With another sigh, he turned around, opened the bedroom door back up, and reentered the room.

Hamilton looked up from where he was putting himself to rights, obviously surprised. Thomas completely ignored the egocentric omega and walked past the bed to open the large folding doors on the other side of the room. They led to his home office. Thomas ignored the hum of surprise from behind him (Hamilton undoubtedly had assumed that this door just led to a closet) and made sure that the door from the office to the hallway beyond was closed before turning on the light and going in.

For the rest of the evening, Thomas was very careful to completely ignore the omega in his bedroom. If he wanted space, he got it, a petty part of himself hissed. Instead, he pulled up his email inbox on his laptop and spent the next several hours working from home.

Or trying to, at least. Even though he refused to look up from his computer screen, he could still see Hamilton over the rim of the laptop. The omega spent two hours on his phone before putting it down with a sigh. He then got up and walked into the office himself, obviously looking for something to do.

Thomas didn't watch the omega as he perused his bookshelf, nor did he notice when he would nod in approval at some titles and scoff in disgust at others. He didn't look up when Hamilton selected a book and took it off the shelf, then curled up in the plush chair in the opposite corner of his office to read it.

And when, an hour later, Hamilton mumbled to the book, “I didn't mean it, you know. What I said. I just … panicked.” Thomas refused to notice that, either.

The hours somehow passed both excruciatingly slow and entirely too fast. At the dinner hour Thomas rose, closed his laptop, and refused to look at Hamilton as he left the room to go down to the kitchen. He also refused to look at Hamilton when he handed him a plate with a turkey-and-swiss sandwich and potato chips a few minutes later. He refused to look at Hamilton as he sat back down at his desk and ate his own sandwich at his laptop.

Hamilton broke first, of course. The omega was stubborn as a mule, but he didn't have the self-control for any sort of extended grudge. He got up, put the book he had been reading back on the shelf, and loudly announced that he was going to bed.

Thomas considered, then hissed in annoyance at his own weakness before opening a drawer in his desk and fumbling through the contents. When Hamilton returned from brushing his teeth, he found an Android-compatible charger laying on the bed by his dead phone. He looked up, but Thomas refused to meet his eyes from where he was back at work on his laptop.

Hamilton plugged the phone in, turned off the lights, then considered. Thomas absolutely didn't watch as Hamilton stripped naked and climbed between the sheets.

He had already turned off the overhead lights in the office, leaving only the dim recessed lighting and the light from his computer to light up the two rooms. Hamilton had nothing to hinder him as he fell asleep.

Thomas waited until he could hear the omega's breathing change before closing his laptop. He considered whether or not he was ready to join Hamilton in bed before deciding that he was too tense. It was childish and petty, but damn it if it wouldn't help, and damn him if he didn't feel like doing something childish and petty. Making sure that the omega was still asleep, he was as silent as he could manage as he unzipped his jeans and pulled them open, then pulled his cock out of his boxers and gave it a few experimental strokes.

He definitely wasn't thinking of Hamilton's ass through the thin bedsheet as he started to stroke himself in earnest.

He had been all but silent, he had made sure of it, but it wasn't enough. As if emerging from his own imagination, the nude omega fell to his knees in front of Thomas. “Let me,” he somehow commanded and begged at the same time. Thomas gazed down at the cherub at his feet, at the pleading in his brown doe eyes, and sat back in his desk chair. He watched, fascinated, as the omega wrapped red-red-red lips around his dick.

* * *

Alex woke to the unmistakable sound of someone masturbating.

A fresh wave of guilt punched him in the stomach. Jefferson had been good to him, supplying his every need, had opened up to show Alex a piece of his childhood, had stroked him to completion in the car, and Alex had repaid his kindness by shouting a slur at him.

Then, again, Jefferson had come on strong and hadn't let up when Alex asked for space.

Then, again, Alex hadn't exactly given him the time to give Alex the space he asked for, nor had he done a very good job in explaining his need for space in the first place.

It was just too much, too fast. Alex wanted Thomas to forgive him and act like that spat had never happened; Alex wanted to get in a car and drive back to his apartment in D.C. and pretend that he had never heard Jefferson's name. He had had all day to think about it, and Alex still didn't know what he wanted.

But hearing the little huffs and slapping sounds coming from the office? Alex knew what he wanted to do about that.

Silently, he padded into the office and took in the scene in front of him: Jefferson in his chair, exactly as he had imagined, and the tentative smell of sex just beginning to make itself known. “Let me,” Alex asked, dropping to his knees between Jefferson's feet.

Jefferson looked at Alex like he was a ghost that had just materialized out of thin air, like he was his greatest dreams and deepest fears personified, and leaned back to present himself.

This situation hadn't been easy for Jefferson, either, Alex realized. And felt guilty for not thinking of it sooner, how the uncertainty and confusion would fuel Jefferson's anger.

He wasted no time in taking Jefferson up on his invitation. He took the Alpha's dick into his mouth, licking down the shaft like he had done countless times before, only to realize his mistake – an Alpha was nothing like the omegan friends he had fooled around with. The cock in his mouth was thicker, fuller, than anything he had taken before, and was growing larger by the second. Also, Jefferson, like most Alphas, was uncut; Alex's past playmates, like most omegas including Alex himself, were circumcised. 

It was a daunting task, but Alex had always thrived best when given a challenge.

He palmed the root of the shaft, feeling it grow in his hand, as he continued to lick along the shaft. Every so often, a quick mouthing of the tip inspired a moan from the Alpha above him, and inspired the dick to grow faster. Finally, the foreskin pulled back to expose the head, and Alex was back in his element.

He took the cock into his mouth, up to about halfway down the shaft. Flicking his tongue along the frenulum rewarded him with a gasp and a muttered curse. He swirled up along the slit, tasting the precome, and inspected the bottom half of the dick in front of him.

So that was an Alpha's knot. He supposed he should feel amazed or drawn to it or something, an omega seeing a knot for the first time, but he felt none of those things. It was just a dick, just another dick, just thicker at the base than he was used to. He would be able to take it easily enough, he thought.

He flicked at the frenulum again, earning himself another gasp, and swallowed as much of the dick as he could. It got him another gasp, so he swallowed again, which made the Alpha above him moan, so he pulled out a dirty trick he knew and started to hum.

The vibrations around his shaft caused Jefferson to writhe, which is when he realized that Jefferson hadn't touched him once the entire time. No hand carding his hair, no hand braced against his shoulders, nothing. He wondered what it meant, as Jefferson came down his throat.

It was more come than he was used to, but he swallowed through sheer force of habit. He continued to hum, wringing Jefferson through his orgasm, until the other man collapsed bonelessly into his chair.

The rightness of purpose that had filled him when he heard Jefferson left him. Alex stood, wiping the come and saliva from his lips, and wondered what to do next.

He didn't wonder long. Jefferson stood, looked uncertain for a moment, then kissed the omega's shoulder. Without a word, he turned and headed for the bed.

Alex watched him undress and slip under the covers before doing the same himself. His heart sang from the kiss, somehow so much more intimate than the blowjob, and sang further when Thomas drew the omega to himself to curl around.

His last thought, before drifting back to sleep, was to wonder whether he should allow himself the pleasure of affection.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's gonna happen next? Will Thomas forgive Alex? Should Thomas be asking for Alex's forgiveness instead? Is there a chance for happiness with these two? Leave your thoughts, feelings, and random observations in the comments! I love to hear from you guys!


	7. The Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, _finally_ , our boys sit down and communicate.

For the second time in as many mornings, Alex woke up snuggled against another body. Just like the morning before, he was in a strange place; and just like the morning before, he was in the buff. However, unlike the morning before, he knew exactly whose bed he was in and whose body he lay against. Also unlike the morning before, he could remember the circumstances leading up to crawling naked into bed with that person.

Another difference was that he had woken first. Careful to make as little movement as possible, so as not to disturb his sleeping bedmate, he shifted to study the man in his sleep.

Thomas was attractive, he'd give the man that. Deep chocolate eyes, kissable lips, a strong jaw. A broad, muscular chest that became well-defined abs. A pleasing personal smell, sandalwood and musk and a scent that Alex associated with  _Alpha_ . Just enough facial hair, that was kept meticulously trimmed. A deep, sensual voice that contained just enough of a Southern drawl to make it somehow charming as well as strong. Smooth, dark, chestnut-rich skin. An explosion of curly hair for Alex to bury his face in. 

He hated this man, he reminded himself. He hated the way he had made him feel the day before. He hated the way he had casually started to treat Alex like just another possession. Before this nightmare of a bonding, he hated the man's politics and ideals. He hated how smoothly he would tear down everything Alex had worked hard to make. He hated how effortlessly he would stand in the Senate, and give charismatic speeches that would-

Alex's musings ended when Jefferson stirred. He opened his eyes to find the omega staring down at him, and smirked. Not a hint of being disconcerted, not a hint of needing a moment to catch his bearings. “Mornin', Sunshine,” he drawled.

“I hate you,” Alex responded.

Whatever results he was expecting, it wasn't what happened. Jefferson threw back his head and laughed, genuinely  _laughed_ , as if Alex had just told a great joke.

Alex huffed and made to get up, but Jefferson easily caught his wrist and pulled him back, to lay down beside him again. “Hold on, Darlin',” he said. “We need to talk.”

God, Alex hated those words. “Talk about what?” he asked, instantly wary.

“Talk about yesterday,” Jefferson replied, expression suddenly serious. “And about us.”

There had to be some other, less unpleasant way they could spend their morning. Like having dental work done without anesthesia, or going to a Nickelback concert. But Alex couldn't find a way of suggesting such an alternate activity that didn't sound petty. “Okay,” he agreed reluctantly.

“Okay,” Jefferson repeated, looking a tad uncomfortable himself.

There followed a moment of silence, where both men fidgeted and attempted not to look at the other. Finally, Jefferson cleared his throat. “What you said to me yesterday was painful.” Alex immediately jumped in, to attempt to justify himself, but Jefferson cut him off. “Let me say my piece. It was painful, but it was also a little bit true. This … transition hasn't been easy for either of us, and I may have moved us along too fast. I understand that. So maybe we should talk about some boundaries.”

Alex felt the anger building inside him again, but was very careful to keep himself in check. “I agree,” he said. “We do need to talk about boundaries. Starting with the fact that the pace we move at isn't yours to set.”

Jefferson blinked, obviously taken aback. “What do you mean?” he almost demanded. “I'm the Alpha.”

“Yes, and I'm the omega,” Alex retorted. _Now that we've gotten introductions out of the way …_ he snarked to himself, but didn't say out loud. “We're also two adults, here, both of whom have to come together to make this work. It's not your responsibility to take charge here. For fuck's sake, Jefferson, I'm not that sort of omega! You know that!”

Jefferson blinked again, and Alex wondered what sort of omegas the man had amused himself with in the past, that he expected his partner to just roll over and allow him to be the sole decision maker. “Fair enough,” he said, finally.

“Good,” Alex replied. “And I'm keeping my career.” No way was he resigning just so that some Alpha could play house.

Jefferson rolled his head to the side, a nod of agreement. “Of course,” he said, as if the possibility of anything else hadn't even crossed his mind, and a weight Alex hadn't even realized existed lifted from his shoulders. “Anything else?”

Alex thought desperately. “Nothing now, but I reserve the right to add anything later as I think of it.”

Jefferson nodded. “Fair enough,” he stated. “Now for my boundaries. First of all, we move into my apartment in D.C.”

Alex nodded easily. He had expected this, and was completely fine with it. His own apartment wasn't anything special, anyway. “Done,” he stated, repeating Jefferson's rolling side nod earlier. “Next?”

“You let me buy you things,” Jefferson said, with a flat expression on his face. Alex spluttered in protest, but Jefferson wasn't relenting. “You're my mate now, and what's mine is yours, and all that other sappy stuff. I'm richer than God, and if you have a need, it makes sense for me to fill it. I'm not saying that you can never buy anything for yourself, ever again, or that you can't buy me something, or anything like that; you do whatever you want with your own money. I'm just saying that, if I buy you a new garment or whatever, you say thanks and accept it.” Jefferson must have seen the resistance in Alex's expression, because his own became pleading. “Please, Alex, give me this. Let me take care of you from time to time.”

Alex realized that there were worse ways for his Alphan need to provide for his mate to manifest itself. “Alright,” he relented. “But just from time to time! When we go clothes shopping – which you yourself said we would! – I buy my own things.”

Jefferson nodded almost eagerly. “Deal,” he agreed. “One more thing – you stay home during your heats.”

There was no sputtering, no indignation. “No,” Alex said, in a tone that made it quite clear that this wasn't up for debate.

“Alex, you have no idea how uncomfortable you make the Alphas you work with when you show up to work in heat,” Jefferson demanded. He saw Alex about to protest, and knew exactly what he was going to say. “Even with the suppressants you take; they're not enough. _That's what working omegas do_ – they stay home!”

“Most omegas don't have the sort of position that I have!” Alex retorted. “I have a lot of work; the nation's economy isn't going to shut down for a week just because-”

“Who said that you couldn't work? I happen to know _for a fact_ that the vast majority of your duties could be conducted, at home, via the internet.”

Alex was unimpressed. “And if an emergency comes up?” he pointed out a very reasonable argument.

“Then you have your cell phone,” Jefferson replied. “If that's not enough, then you can go in while the emergency is handled – but only if there is no other recourse. Alex, I know that you don't like certain aspects of your biology, but that doesn't make them any less true. We all have parts of ourselves that we've had to learn to live with.”

Alex didn't like it. Betas and Alphas didn't have heats, only omegas did – it was one more thing that set him as different, as  _weaker_ , than his coworkers. Working through his heats was a way to change that. And if those coworkers had a hard time working with him during that weak, four times a year? Then that was their problem, not his; he had conquered his biology, the least they could do is the same.

But, perhaps that wasn't fair. Perhaps he  _should_ give this to Jefferson. After all, it was only for a year, and then they would annul this silly farce of a bond and go their separate ways; and, at that point, if Jefferson didn't like how Alex decided to conduct himself, then the man could go eat a flaming bag of dicks.

“Fine,” he conceded. “But you're staying home with me.” Alphas staying home with their omegan partners while they were in heat wasn't uncommon, either.

Jefferson smiled, a wide smirk of a grin, and Alex cursed when he realized what he had just suggested. “Why, Hamilton,” the Alpha teased. “I thought you hated me.”

“You? Yes,” Alex snapped, sitting up. “Your knot can stay.”

Jefferson laughed hard enough to shake the bed at that, and sat up himself. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “One more thing – you go to church with me tomorrow morning.”

That wouldn't be a hard compromise at all, painless and easy, unless … “What church do you go to?” Alex asked. He could see Jefferson going to some weird hipster church where they all stood outside in nothing but robes and held hands whilst chanting in Sanskrit or something.

“A Unitarian church just down the road,” he answered. “Just a simple ceremony, standard stuff.”

Alex nodded. “Alright,” he said, and watched as Jefferson got out of the bed. His eyes traveled down the man's muscular back, to his frankly ridiculous ass. Just the perfect mixture of tight and round, firm and soft, Alex could feel his mouth water as he thought about reaching forward and just grabbing a handful and-

He suddenly came back to himself, to realize that Jefferson was watching him stare at his ass, a look of amusement on his face. Alex flushed but refused to allow himself to be embarrassed, as Jefferson laughed. “Fine,” Alex said. “I'll go to church with you if you let me top from time to time.”

Jefferson laughed again. “I think we can figure something out,” he agreed amicably.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it took me longer to research Jefferson's religious beliefs than it did to write this chapter. Jefferson was an interesting sort. And, yes, he was a total 18th century hipster. Dude made his own Bible, a combination of all his favorite translations of the Gospels, in a combination of Greek, Latin, French, and English. He called it _The Life and Morals of Jesus of Nazareth_ , but everyone now just calls it _The Jefferson Bible_. It only includes Jesus' teachings; Jefferson left out any "mentions of the supernatural, including sections of the four gospels that contain the Resurrection and most other miracles, and passages that portray Jesus as divine," because of course he did. Jefferson was a master of missing the trees because he's too busy looking at the forest. The religious views of Jefferson are so complex that they have their own Wikipedia article. Anyway, I was on Wiki, I was on Monticello's website (a wonderful source of information about anything and everything Jefferson), and I found that in an 1825 letter to Dr. Benjamin Waterhouse he describes himself as a "Unitarian by myself", and I decided that that was close enough. Jefferson didn't like organized religion, but he attended church services all his life out of respect for public worship, and even frequently gave generous donations to several churches in the area of many different denominations. In the South, church attendance is much more common than in other areas of the country, so because of that (and because there's actually a Unitarian church in the University of Virginia area named after Thomas Jefferson), I decided that this Jefferson would be a fairly-regularly-attending Unitarian.
> 
> Although pretty much everything in my fic is based off of real, actual places in Charlottesville (to the point where every time they get in the car I know exactly what route they're taking and everything), the church Jefferson attends isn't. For one reason, the only Unitarian church in Charlottesville is the afore-mentioned Thomas Jefferson Unitarian Church in the UVA area, which is clear on the other side of town; but, mostly, because I don't think anyone wants their place of worship associated with a piece of fiction about Founding Fathers fucking.
> 
> Also, a disclaimer: although Alex says that thing about "hipster" religions, I mean no disrespect towards other cultures and the ways that they worship. If you want to worship your god(s) by going outside and holding hands while chanting, by all means, do it. I will be the last person to make fun of your culture. This world is a beautiful place in a lot of ways because of all the unique and different cultures out there, and religion is one part of culture. I _am_ , however, making fun of the types of people who would turn around and join that sort of religion solely because they think it's edgy and makes them look cool or hip. That's a form of cultural appropriation, and it's not cool.


	8. The Makeup

 

They had breakfast in the dining room, a simple meal of fresh fruit and a variety of cereals. Alex looked around curiously, and Thomas realized that the only parts of Monticello the omega had seen were the foyer, bedroom, bathroom, and office. He was going to have to give the man a tour at some point.

“So, clothes shopping?” he asked after they both were finished.

“Yes, and to pick up some toiletries,” Alex responded.

Thomas smirked. “I rather like you smelling like my shampoo,” he teased, which earned him a dirty look from the omega. “Fine. Clothes, toiletries. Anything else?”

Alex looked a bit sheepish. “My car?” he reminded the Alpha.

Thomas frowned. “I completely forgot about that, in all the, ah, excitement. It's no problem; I'll have Abraham pick it up for you.” Alex looked a bit uncomfortable at that, but Thomas didn't relent; if the omega was going to be living with him, he'd have to get used to servants running errands. “Do you have any stores you prefer?”

“I usually get everything at Target; do you have one of those in Charlottesville?”

Thomas blinked. Target? Really? “Yes, we do,” he said, biting his tongue on what he really wanted to say. “We can leave whenever you'd like, Sweetie.”

There was a flicker, just a flicker, of a frown at the pet name. It makes Thomas smile as Alex gets up to gather his things.

* * *

It takes a bit longer to get to the Target than it did the diner the day before, and Alex was interested in the view of Charlottesville the drive affords him. They pass through the commercial heart of the city, and watch as shopping center after shopping center goes by.

“Are you sure that you don't want to go to the Mall?” Thomas asked him at one point, gesturing to a large building that's obviously a shopping mall as it passes.

“Maybe after Target?” Alex responded, just to see Thomas get all huffy.

The huffy continues in Target. Thomas sneered at the tees and sweats Alex pulled off the shelves, the latte he had purchased from the in-store Starbucks only slightly mollifying his horror. “Huh?” Alex asked his opinion at one point, holding up a tee that featured the words “DAD BOD” over a glass of beer. Then busted out laughing when Thomas only rolled his eyes in response.

“I think this would work better for you,” Thomas replied, holding up a shirt that said, “SARCASTIC COMMENT LOADING” along with the universal “loading” symbol.

Alex batted his eyes. “You know me so well,” he quipped, earning a chuckle from the Alpha.

He did, however, insist on getting the School House Rock tee with the Bill on the front; and insisted that Thomas get one, as well. “After all,” he teased the Senator, “ _someone_ has to teach you how to pass a bill.”

Thomas tried to put his foot down at the tee with the unicorn on it, for all the good it did him. It still went into the cart. Alex loved unicorns. “And it's my favorite color,” he told Thomas, pointing to the green background.

Thomas got oddly quiet after that.

He perked up at the toiletries, however. He forced Alex to stand by the cart while he chose his shampoo and conditioner. “After all, I'm going to have to be the one smelling it,” he pointed out.

In the end, he came back with several bottles of a shampoo and conditioner of a brand Alex didn't recognize, that smelled vaguely of coconut. “Your personal scent is a bit tropical; this will match it well,” Thomas explained, and it was Alex's turn to go quiet.

Alex let Thomas pick out his body wash, but drew the line at deodorant and toothpaste. At that point, they were at the pharmacy. Alex hesitated only a moment before going down the aisle to pick up suppressants.

Thomas watched him put them in the cart, an odd expression on his face. “How soon until your heat?” he muttered low, low enough that no one would hear.

Alex shook his head. “Five weeks or so,” he assured the Alpha. “This is just my favorite brand, and they're on sale.” Thomas nodded and didn't say anything else as they continued through the store.

The last thing he picked up was a pair of shockingly fluffy slippers. “My feet get cold,” he explained to Thomas' dubious expression.

“Did they skin a tribble to make those things?” Thomas groused. Alex, who had been taking a sip from his own coffee, had to swallow quickly to keep from shooting the liquid through his nose.

On their way up to the front of the store, they pass the hosiery section. “Now, here's what you should get, instead,” Thomas teases, holding up a pair of lacy women's stockings. “They even have your favorite color!” Sure enough, the thigh-high pair he was holding up had a green bow at the top of each stocking.

Alex studied Thomas critically. “Do you want me to get the stockings?” he asked the Alpha, all teasing and joking gone.

The way Thomas sputtered and blushed was all the confirmation Alex needed. “No, of course not!” Thomas insisted. But he wouldn't look at Alex as he put the stockings back on the rack.

Alex abandoned the cart to walk directly up to Thomas, careful to keep his face blank. Thomas stepped back, eyes wide, face uncertain and a little scared. Alex maintained eye contact as he took the stockings off the rack, and watched Thomas' pupils dilate as he threw them into the cart.

The little swallow behind his back didn't go unnoticed as Alex turned the cart around to leave the aisle.

Point Alex.

They got to the front of the store to pay without further incident. Thomas snagged a coconut water from the fridge by the registers; Alex rolled his eyes and got a Pepsi. Thomas raised an eyebrow at Alex's beverage choice, and threw a bag of holiday-themed M&Ms on the conveyor belt. Alex laughed and threw a second one down to join it.

* * *

On the way back to the shopping mall, Thomas was reflective. The looks of genuine concern Alex kept giving him finally convinced him to talk.

“I didn't know your favorite color was green,” he confessed.

Alex immediately got the point – they knew so little about each other. “Yeah, hunter green or kelly green, then turquoise. What's yours?”

Thomas snorted. “Purple,” he reminded the omega, who just shrugged. “What about food?”

“Pizza,” Alex replied instantly. “New York style.”

“Mac and cheese,” Thomas gave, predictably. “Although I prefer homestyle, with a breadcrumb crust and all, to a box or restaurant style. Favorite movie?”

They went on and on the entire trip – movies, music, season, class in college, car, dog or cat. When they ran out of serious favorites, they got silly – favorite day of the year, favorite Star Wars character, favorite name. Then Thomas asked Alex his favorite sex position just to watch the omega blush and study his fingers.

The amusement from Alex's reaction lasted just long enough for Thomas to realize that Samuel was watching them in the rear-view mirror. That Samuel had likely been watching them for some time. That Samuel was probably wondering why such long-term lovers didn't know so much about the other.

Thomas decided that it might be time to give Samuel a raise.

* * *

They wander around the Fashion Square Mall aimlessly, walking into any shops that catch their eye. Thomas breaks the bad news to Alex that the last book store in the mall closed down years ago, and the only book store remaining in Charlottesville is the Barnes and Noble on the other side of town, and Alex grumbles something about illiteracy and lack of decent education and something about the word “hicks” under his breath.

He's mollified somewhat by a pretzel from Auntie Anne's.

They get some scented bath scrub at Bath and Body Works, then Alex insists on looking at supplements at GNC. Alex wants to get pizza at Sbarro's, but Thomas assures him that he really, really doesn't. Alex, it seems, eats constantly unless he's busy, at which time he doesn't eat at all. Thomas informs him that there's a good Red Robin in the mall, then remembers their earlier “favorites” conversation and assures him that they can get some pizza elsewhere if he wants.

As they're leaving, Thomas catches sight of the maternity store, and almost teases Alex that they might need to shop there in a few months; but decides better of it. Instead, he waggles his eyebrows at him outside of Victoria's Secret, asks Alex if he'd like to get something to match the stockings they got at Target, and satisfies himself with the shade of red the omega turns.

Alex makes him get them pizza at Fabio's afterward in retaliation.

Thomas jokingly gags when he finds out that Alex likes pineapple on his pizza, but gamely orders it anyway. In the end, they order three pizzas and take them home.

They spend the rest of the afternoon and evening watching Thomas' DVDs and eating pizza before digging into the M&Ms. Alex cries when Rue dies, and Thomas thinks that it's one of the most adorable things he's ever seen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hamilton really did like unicorns. [Here's a photo of the one he engraved on his powder horn](http://image.minyanville.com/assets/FCK_May2009/Image/June2010/hamilton1.jpg). It has a flower ~~tramp stamp~~ cutie mark and everything. Of course, back then unicorns symbolized hopes and asperations, and the "cutie mark" is a _cinquefoils_ (or five-pedaled flower) which is from the [Hamilton coat-of-arms](http://www.scotclans.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/Coat_of_arms_of_Hamilton_Bermuda.gif), but it's still funny. [Here's a comic someone did about it.](http://66.media.tumblr.com/d21547f4d4ff18fdfebb6e980d369cb7/tumblr_o5nit5w4fc1vrdl4lo2_1280.jpg)
> 
> Don't eat at the Sbarro's in Fashion Square Mall in Charlottesville. Just ... don't. If you're reading this and you own that Sbarro's or work there or whatever, I'm sorry, but your pizza is nasty. I don't know if it's that Sbarro's or just the restaurant in general, but every so often I have to eat there to remind myself, yup, still nasty.
> 
> Okay, people: pineapple on pizza or not? Personally, I love it, but I acknowledge that it's not for everyone. (I don't like ham with it, though, as I don't like ham on pizza, so I get it with pepperoni instead.) What about you guys?


	9. The First Time

The subject came up while they were watching a rom-com in the rec room. It was a fairly old movie – released in the 80s – so featured a fairly basic “Alpha gets the 'ga” plot. They're just to the point where the svelte, sexy omega is telling all his friends about the dashing Alpha he met that day when Thomas noticed that Alex was scowling at the screen.

“Not a fan of rom-coms?” Thomas asked.

“Not these types,” Alex responded, a little sulky.

Thomas snorted in irritation. Typical. “You think the omega should be pursuing the Alpha?”

“I think whoever should be pursuing whomever,” was the reply. “I don't really care. Yeah, these movies tend to make the omega in the relationship seem less competent at expressing his love for the Alpha, but that's not what I'm talking about.”

Thomas was confused. “Then what's the problem?”

“That,” Alex spat, pointing at the screen. “That, right there. The omega is already in a perfectly healthy relationship with his two omegan nestmates. They're happy together. And yet this movie – and all other movies I've seen – treat omega-with-omegan relationships as significantly less valid and important than Alpha-with-omegan ones.”

Thomas thought about that a moment. “He could marry his nestmates,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but only one,” Alex replied. “And it almost never happens. You hear about Alphas marrying omegas, and Alphas marrying other Alphas, and betas marrying whomever, but you never hear about omegas marrying omegas. And it's because of this.” Another accusing finger at the screen. “Society treats omega-omega relationships as just a phase, just a 'friends with benefits' type situation, something to hold the omega over until their _real_ relationship with a beta or, preferably, an Alpha can start.”

Thomas blinked, then looked back at the screen. “Do you have a nestmate?” he asked Alex. It pained him to realize that he very well might, another omega at home waiting for a nestmate who had gone and found himself an Alpha instead.

Alex shook his head. “No,” he answered. “I did, but he moved out of the country. I was looking for someone else; that's why I was chatting with John.”

Thomas nodded. “How many relationships with Alphas have you had?” he asked, curious.

The response was just a split-second too long in coming, but it's long enough for Thomas to have his answer. “That's not the point,” the omega insisted, and it's almost –  _almost_ – believable. “The point is, our society needs to stop brushing these  _perfectly legitimate_ relationships aside.”

“Alex,” Thomas asked, ignoring the tirade, “have you ever taken a knot before?”

Alex huffed. “Technically? No, I guess not.”

Thomas wondered how you could “technically” take a knot or not. Not important. “Aww, am I your first?” he teased the omega.

Alex gave him a look that could peel paint off the side of a car. “I hate you so much,” he responded.

“I'll go easy on you,” Thomas continued. “I'll lay down rose petals, put on some Barry Manilow- oh, I think we have some champagne!”

“Just so, so much.”

Thomas couldn't help it; he laughed. “Seriously, though, it's an honor.”

Alex snorted. “Who says I'm letting you knot me?” he responded.

Thomas thought a moment. “No one,” he said. “And you don't have to; I was just teasing. If you don't want to, you don't have to. I mean, it's probably best if we continue to sleep together and engage in  _some_ sort of sexual activity; but I'm more than happy to take turns blowing each other if that's all you want to do.”

Alex studied his face for a moment. “You really mean that, don't you?” he asked, voice trembling with something that almost sounded like vulnerability.

Thomas snorted. “I'm not a rapist, Hamilton,” he said. “I'm not going to drag you back to the bedroom kicking and screaming, and I'm certainly not going to pressure you into doing anything that you're not interested in.”

Alex thought a moment. “Good,” he said. “Because I decided a long time ago; I'll never take a knot. So I guess we'll do … that.”

Thomas was very, very careful to keep the disappointment off his face. “Okay,” he said as casually as he could, sitting back with another handful of M&Ms. He could sense Alex studying him curiously, but didn't look over. Instead, he immersed himself back into the movie.

“I lied,” Alex muttered suddenly.

“What?” Thomas asked, confused.

“I never decided anything of the sort. In fact, I've always been curious. I just wanted to see what you'd say.”

Thomas studied Alex's face for a trap, but the omega seemed completely truthful. “So you mean that you do want to …?” he asked, rather lamely.

Alex considered for a minute, and Thomas could smell the omega's scent change with his sudden arousal. Abruptly, Alex stood up. “I'll text you when I'm ready for you,” he said, simply, and walked out of the rec room.

Thomas watched him go, trying to swallow on a suddenly dry mouth. He tried to pay attention to the movie, but his mind was focused on the direction Alex had left. His phone going off about ten minutes later actually startled him.

Thomas opened the bedroom door to find Alex lounging on the bed, arms thrown above his head and legs spread wide. It was a fairly seductive pose, especially considering what the omega was wearing – the stockings they had purchased from Target, and nothing else. “About time you got here,” Alex blustered, although Thomas could smell his nervousness in the air.

“Shut up,” Thomas retorted, going to the bed to crawl onto Alex. The omega complied easily, rolling onto his back. He stayed there, without the fidgeting that would indicate impatience, so Thomas took his time examining the gift that had been given him.

The omega had a wonderfully proportioned body – small yet muscular, compact. A narrow, lightly-haired chest gave way to a soft stomach with just a bit of a pooch. Hip bones jut abruptly from a narrow waist, perfect for exploring later with fingers and kisses. A light layer of fuzz started just below the navel and ran down the abdomen, thickening as it went, until it became a thicket of curls cradling a dick that was surprisingly large for an omega.

Thomas' eyes traveled back up the omega's body to find Alex watching him. “Like what you see?” the smaller man quipped, although the tightening around his eyes betrayed his agitation.

Thomas didn't answer, choosing instead to reward Alex's patience by taking Alex's hips in either hand, tilting his pelvis up to give the Alpha access, and licking a stripe from his hole all the way to his stones. Thomas could feel the muscles under his palms squirm, and hear the little huffs of pleasure. He mouthed at the omega's balls for a moment, before licking a line up the shaft of his dick to take the tip into his mouth and swirl around the slit with his tongue. Alex practically howled at that, and Thomas found the sight of the omega with his head thrown back one of the sexiest things he'd ever seen. He pulled the dick out of his mouth with an oddly-erotic _pop_ , then stroked the shaft once, twice, and watched Alex come all over his stomach.

Alex sank back into the duvet, panting and out of breath, but oddly irritated. “Whatever happened to knotting me?” he demanded curtly.

Thomas looked down at the omega and smiled. “Oh, that?” he asked. “That was just your reward for the stockings. We're just getting started.”

* * *

Alex watched, hesitant again, as Thomas laid his pelvis back down on the duvet. As an omega, his recovery time was minimal, and he could go again; but he was uneasy and unsure about what would happen next.

Abruptly, Thomas slid two fingers into him, and he arched his back in delight at the sensation. The fingers found his prostrate and pressed on it, and he was practically seeing stars. Just as abruptly as the fingers appeared, however, they were gone. Alex had just enough time to whine in displeasure when Thomas' cock slides all the way into him.

As an omega, and as an omega that had been sexually active before, Alex didn't need lube – his body produced its own. The glide of dick into ass isn't anything new, nor did his body offer any resistance to the Alpha seating himself all the way in until he bottomed out; but damn him if it didn't fill him up like nothing ever had before.

Then Thomas pulled his cock out until only the tip was still in him, and slammed it home again, and Alex was in ecstasy. He was babbling, sputtering nonsense that even he didn't know what he was saying. “Yes, yes, Alpha, yes, there, yes there, again, again, Alpha, yes!”

He can feel it when Thomas is close, when his dick starts to twitch and spasm inside him. He can feel it when Thomas orgasms, a flood of come that washes into him. Then he can feel the knot, the expanse of skin that fills him completely, that locks them together, and Alex is coming, coming like he's never come before. It's fast and hard and hits him again and again and is almost too much, too much, but instead it's the greatest thing that has ever happened to anybody.

* * *

Thomas gathered the shaking omega to himself, sat up on the bed to hold Alex tight against his chest. He peppered the omega's neck and shoulder with kisses, whispered reassurances into his ear, and waited for the smaller man to ride it out.

Alex finally came back to himself gasping and laughing. Thomas watched him, supported his body, and couldn't help but smile himself at the omega's euphoria.

“So _that's_ why we keep you Alphas around,” he stated, then started laughing again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may or may not know, mpreg is a staple of the A/B/O trope. It definitely exists in this universe as well, although I haven't decided whether or not to introduce it into this fic (and, if I do, it won't be for many, many more chapters). What do you guys think?


	10. The Sharing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the author takes great liberties with Jefferson's personal history.

Thomas woke the next morning to find himself enveloped by a still-sleeping Alex. Apparently, at some point during the night, Alex decided that he wanted to be the big spoon. The smaller man couldn't quite reach all the way around, although he was making a valiant effort at it – legs wrapped around Thomas' knees, arms around his chest, face buried in his hair. Thomas had a brief moment worried that the omega couldn't breathe, until he heard the tiny whistle of the sleeping man's snore.

He thought through the various amusing ways he could wake his mate, before deciding to just let the other man sleep. The omega had had a big night, had taken a big step in life, and it wasn't like they had anything to do this-

Thomas sat up abruptly, searching for the clock on his nightstand. Behind him, he heard a groan and a sleepy little “whu?” that would have been adorable at any other time; now, Thomas ignored it. They had gotten used to sleeping in to whatever time they wanted in the morning, and their sleeping habits were starting to change accordingly. He should have set an alarm.

“What's happening?” Alex asked, propping himself up with a yawn, just as Thomas found the clock. Good. They had plenty of time.

“Church,” Thomas reminded the omega, who disentangled himself and sat up in alarm. “Don't worry; we don't have to leave until 9:30.” Thomas watched Alex's eyes dart to the clock himself, and register the red “7:49” with relief.

“Good,” the omega declared, flopping back onto the bed. “Wake me in an hour.” The little bitch then proceeded to go back to sleep.

Thomas didn't say anything, just dove underneath the duvet. Alex suspected nothing before a tongue forcing its way into his passage made him shriek. “Warn a man next time!” he yelled, striking the Thomas-shaped lump under the duvet.

Thomas, for his part, ignored him. Instead, he focused on turning the omega's irritation into moans and chitters by continuing to eat the man out. He spread Alex's cheeks to get a better access, and began licking and sucking around his hole, and nosing at his balls. By the time he made his way up suck at those balls, he felt the omega shudder with his release.

Pleased, Thomas worked his way up to begin sucking a hickey on Alex's inner thigh. Alex, whose scent of arousal and contentment filled the small space beneath the duvet, let him.

* * *

Church service was endurable in that dull, just slightly boring way that all church services are. Alex sat in the pew beside Thomas and ignored the congregation's tendency to stare at him. These people had known Thomas since he was a little boy, and were curious about the mysterious omega with whom he had just bonded.

After the service ended, Thomas practically wrapped himself around Alex, protecting him during the introductions and thinly-veiled interrogations that followed. Thomas allowed it to go on for awhile, but when an older betan lady asked them about children he had reached his limit. “It was great seeing you all again,” the Alpha said with a smile, and Alex was slightly envious of his ability to charm, “but my mate is hungry and I don't want to overwhelm him his first visit here.” Alex had the good sense to save his protests until they were in the car.

“Really, Thomas?” he demanded. “Did you really just play the 'poor, delicate omega' card?”

Thomas shrugged. “It worked, didn't it? If I had said literally anything else, we would still be there.”

Alex huffed, still annoyed, but let it go.

Then perked up when he recognized the road name. “Hey!” he said. “Rio Road. We passed this when we went to the mall yesterday.”

Thomas, the douchebag, actually winced. “Actually, it's pronounced 'Rye-o',” he told the omega.

Alex blinked, a little horrified. “No,” he said carefully. “It's pronounced 'Ree-o'. It means 'river' in Spanish.”

Thomas shrugged. “That might be how you pronounce 'river' in Spanish, but the road is pronounced 'Rye-o'. Trust me on this; I've lived here my whole life. Pronouncing it 'Ree-o' instantly marks you as a tourist.”

Alex snorted, but didn't say anything else. Although he could be forgiven for muttering something that sounded suspiciously like “stupid hicks” under his breath.

* * *

They had lunch at a buffet house, where Alex was dismayed to find themselves recognized again and again. Lunch, therefore, was a little tense, and Alex got back into the car feeling full but uneasy.

Again, Thomas opened the door for Alex, then walked around to get in on his own side, but paused for a moment to speak with Samuel.

“What was that about?” Alex couldn't help but ask.

“I want to show you something,” was the Alpha's reply. Alex watched as they took the path back to the familiar sights of Pantops Mountain. Instead of getting up on the Interstate as they had done on Friday, they drove until the bustling city gave way abruptly to trees and countryside.

They didn't drive much farther before the car started to slow and pulled off the road to park and onto a gravel driveway. Curious, Alex craned his neck to see where they were going. The driveway ran a surprising distance before abruptly coming to a halt at a small farmhouse.

"That's where I was born," Thomas said, gesturing to the farmhouse. "I grew up in that house."

Alex turned back to the house and studied it, taking in its details. He imagined a small Thomas running around on the lawn, climbing the trees, exploring the fields. He imagined the child stuck indoors and staring out the front window longingly. He imagined the child helping his mother get laundry off the line he could just see peeking around the back of the house, helping his father wash the family car using water from the spigot sticking up from the ground beside the drive. He imagined the child playing in the dirt of the drive with others, siblings and family. "It must have been peaceful," he muttered into the quiet of imagining that had filled the car.

Thomas grinned, an expression of genuine fondness on his face. "It was," he assured the omega. "My father was an Alpha; my mother a beta. I was the oldest; then my sister Lucy and brother Randolph." He must have seen the expression on Alex's face out of the corner of his eye. "It's a family name," he explained. "But, yeah, we all grew up in this house. When my father died, I inherited a parcel of land to the east, including Monticello."

Alex was still studying the modest farmhouse. "What about your mother and siblings?"

"Mom lived here until she passed on a few years later," Thomas told him. "Ranny lived with her, then moved to his own parcel of inherited land in Scottsville, south of here; he lives there now. Lucy lives with her husband in Kentucky." He gestured to the house. "I rent it out now. Let some other lucky boy or girl spend their childhood growing up here."

Alex had nothing to say to that. He studied the farmhouse, then turned to watch Thomas study the farmhouse, until Samuel backed the car around and drove away a few minutes later.

* * *

Thomas had no idea what had inspired him to show Alex his boyhood home. The omega had been oddly silent since then; really, the only thing he had said the entire time was to ask about the status of his family and raise a brow at Ranny's name. Oh, and state that growing up there must have been peaceful.

The more he thought about it, the more he thought it an odd thing to say. What kind of childhood had the other man had, to make that sort of observation?

After a few minutes of silence, driving through the well-known countryside, Thomas cleared his throat. "What about you?" he asked the omega. "Where did you grow up?"

The look of curiosity that flickered across Samuel's face wasn't lost to Thomas; these were facts about his mate that he probably should have already known. More pressing than that, however, was the look of sheer horror that crossed Alex's face. Thomas realized that he had put Alex in a very compromising situation; if the other man refused to tell him details about his own boyhood – details that he may genuinely not want to share with Thomas – it would look very odd to Samuel. "You know what?" he backpedaled. "Tell me later. We'll look it up online, so you can show me."

Gratitude, genuine gratitude, shown back. "I'll tell you later," Alex replied. He met Thomas' eyes fully while he said it, imbuing the words with real meaning. Thomas meant the offer as a cop-out; Alex meant it as a promise.

Again, he wondered about Alex's childhood. His curiosity would just have to wait.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rio Road really is pronounced 'Rye-o'. The theory goes that, as the old name for the road was "Rt. 10" it would show up on signs as "R10" and that gradually became "RIO". As there weren't a whole lot of Spanish-speakers in this area of the world at the time, the pronunciation wasn't affected by the Spanish word of the same spelling. As Thomas says, it's a great way to tell tourists from locals. Other misnomers: nearby city Staunton (pronounced 'Stan-ton'), another city Stanardsville (pronounced 'standards-ville'), slightly farther-away city Weyer's Cave (pronounced 'weers', rhymes with 'beers').
> 
> Jefferson had a ton of siblings -- ten, if you count the two "Peters" who died in infancy. That was common in the 1700s. Not so much now. So I reduced it to the two that have Wiki pages. Lucy Jefferson Lewis didn't move to Kentucky until she was much older; I've sped up the timetable to explain why she isn't beating down her brother's door to demand answers, as any decent sibling would when their brother gets suddenly married. Randolph (who never, to my knowledge, was called "Ranny" in real life) isn't because he's busy, I guess.
> 
> Next chapter: more angst.
> 
> Is everyone enjoying the pacing? I mean, this is Chapter 10, and we've gone two and a half days. That's kind of slow. Does the plot feel slow to you guys, or am I putting in enough details to compensate? Just figured I'd check in at Chapter 10.


	11. The Misunderstanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever have one of those disagreements where you're trying to smooth things over, but everything you say just makes it worse, and it feels like you're having two completely different conversations?
> 
> Angst alert!

It was a long, quiet ride back to Monticello. After they returned, Alex practically jumped from the still-moving car to go into the house. Curious, Thomas followed. He found him in their bedroom, trading the button-down and slacks he had worn to church for his new unicorn tee and sweatpants.

“Everything okay?” Thomas asked.

“Fine, everything's fine,” the omega lied.

Thomas considered a moment before deciding, fuck it; they had come too far to let anything ruin the congeniality they had finally achieved between them. “No, it's not,” Thomas stated. “What's up?” He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, to show that he wasn't going anywhere.

Alex looked at him and scowled, and he realized that his pose could also be seen as trying to intimidate. Fuck. He couldn't change it, either, because then it would look like that's what he had been trying to do. “Come on, Ham, Sweetie, something's bothering you.”

Alex turned to him, then, his scowl only deepening. “I don't want to talk about it. Just drop it.”

Thomas considered. “Is it about your background? Because, Sweetie, we don't have to talk about it if-”

“Don't call me Sweetie!” Alex spat. “You only call me 'Sweetie' when you want something from me! Don't do it!”

Thomas put both hands up, trying to show Alex that he meant no harm. “Alright, no more 'Sweetie',” he replied. “Any pet names you do like?”

“Whatever,” Alex replied, visibly calming. “Just, not 'Sweetie'. And not,” he turned away and began studying the wallpaper, “not 'Angel', or anything 'Angel' related.”

Thomas wasn't going to ask. Probably a former lover. “Alright.” He smirked. “Daaaaaar-lin',” he drawled.

It didn't earn him the smile he was expecting. Alex wouldn't even look at him.

Thomas was just wracking his brain for another try when there was a knock at the door.

Both men jumped, startled. Thomas walked over and opened the door, to find Abraham standing there.

“Sorry to bother you, sir,” he said – and, if the shade of red his face had turned was any indication, it was the truth – “but there's someone here to see you. She refuses to give her name, but says that,” the blush deepened, “you should get your 'punk ass' out there. So sorry, sir, but that's what she said.”

There was only one person that that could refer to. Thomas reassured Abraham that they would only be a minute before closing the door in his face. He then turned and advanced on Alex.

“Who's that?” Alex asked, looking like he couldn't decide whether to be scared or mad. “What are you doing?”

“Making you presentable,” Thomas replied. He then reached up and ruffled the omega's hair, pulled the tee so that the neck was off one shoulder, then turned to his sweats. Ignoring Alex's shout of protest, he yanked the sweats off completely, removed the omega's boxer briefs, then pulled the sweats back up so that a thin strip of hip bone showed through. The omega glared at him, but looked the perfect picture of someone who had interrupted a round of love-making to throw on the first clothes at hand and answer the door.

He looked down at himself. Unfortunately, Abraham had seen him in his church clothes; it would look odd if he then came out in his own sweats. He made do with unbuttoning his button-down to halfway down his chest and grabbing handfuls of his dress slacks to wrinkle them.

Alex caught on, enough to walk over and palm Thomas' dick through his slacks. He tried to shove the omega away, but it was no use; his dick liked the attention, and wasn't shy about making that feeling known to the world.

“I don't want our guest thinking that I'm a bad lover,” Alex explained himself with a nasty smirk.

If that's what the little shit needed to feel better, Thomas would walk out of this room with a raging boner. It would further their disguise, anyway. “Don't want them knowing the truth, hmm?” he teased instead.

It was obviously the wrong thing to say, because it wiped the smirk off Alex's face and left it a cold mask. They didn't have time for Thomas to make it right, though. Alex would just have to be a grownup about the whole thing.

As good as they were going to get, they exited the bedroom.

* * *

“I don't buy this,” Angelica Schuyler-Church stated, wagging a finger between the two men. “Not for a second.”

Which was how Alex learned that the Senator of New York wasn't on the list of people Thomas had trusted with the truth.

“Angie, please,” Thomas was all but begging. “Of course it's the truth. Look at us.”

“Thomas, I've known you for years,” Angelica continued. “You'll pop a boner for any omega who will give you the time of day, and more than a few Alphas and betas too.” She turned to Alex. “And the fact that you aren't wearing any underwear underneath those sweats could mean anything from the fact that you're a raging whore – yeah, I've heard the rumors – to the fact that it's laundry day. No; I've seen you two go at it on C-SPAN too often to believe for a minute that there could be anything more than the thinnest veneer of civility between you two.”

Alex didn't know the Senator that well – he had had a passing relationship with her father back when Philip Schuyler was the Senator of New York – but knew that she was a no-nonsense sort that wouldn't take well to them dancing around the issue. She was the sort who said what she meant, and meant what she said – it was the campaign she had run on. “You could watch if you'd like,” he offered, trying to keep his tone friendly but it came out with a bit of a sneer.

She blinked at him, unimpressed. “What, watch an omega with a reputation for sleeping with anything that will slow down enough for him to jump take a knot?” she sneered right back.

“What does it matter to you, anyway?” Alex asked, sitting back.

“It _matters_ because I've known Thomas for longer than you've been in this country,” she shot back. Beside him, he could feel Thomas stiffen. “I want to make sure that he's not being taken advantage of by a slutty omega only after-”

“That's enough,” Thomas suddenly barked. “Angelica, you're right; I have known you and your family for a long, long time. That doesn't give you the right to come into my home and insult my mate.”

Angelica looked at him, a bit taken aback. “Thomas, are you sure?” she asked. For just a minute, Alex could see the genuine concern she had for the Alpha.

Thomas didn't answer; instead, Alex felt himself suddenly seized and drawn into a kiss.

Thomas kissed like he made love – the perfect blend of hard and soft, fast and slow. His mouth demanded entrance; and when Alex's own mouth obeyed, his tongue ruthlessly possessed every inch of it. Yet, there was something sweet in it, too, in the softness of his lips and the way his hand came to cup Alex's cheek. The kiss was wonderfully unique, and it made his head spin.

Of course, it was unique because they had never kissed before. Alex's treacherous, treacherous brain couldn't stop even now. It reminded him that the reason this kiss was so new was because it was his first kiss with his mate.

Their first kiss was to prove a point to a colleague. It wasn't even a true point. Their first kiss was to try and convince the Senator of a lie, the lie that his mate loved him. That they were in this relationship due to a choice, not due to a drunken mistake. That he wouldn't annul the bond in a moment if it was legally possible.

Their first kiss was a lie to try and prove that their relationship wasn't a mistake.

Alex's body was pulling him away before he even realized what he was doing. "I'm ... I'm sorry, I can't ..." he mumbled to the room in general, before fleeing to the bedroom.

* * *

Thomas watched Alex bolt from the room with a mixture of surprise and disappointment. So far, Alex had been game for whatever it had taken to keep the ruse going. He wondered what had been the tipping point.

The Alpha didn't hear Angelica get up from her seat; the first indication he had that she had moved was a sharp pain that suddenly erupted at the back of his head. "Oww," he complained. "Angie ..."

"Don't 'Angie' me," the other Alpha demanded. "Did you just sexually assault your omegan mate?!"

"Of course not!" Thomas sputtered. "Why on earth would you think me capable of that?"

"Because you just grabbed the man and kissed him without letting him even see it coming, then he broke it off by fleeing the room visibly upset?"

Thomas winced. When put like that ...

It earned him another slap to the back of his head. "Go to him!" she insisted. "Apologize for your creepy ass. Work things out! That's what marriage is, a bunch of apologizing for mistakes and communicating how to do it differently next time."

Thomas sputtered. "But you just got here!"

"And I'll just see myself out," Angelica retorted. "I'm on my way back to D.C., but D.C. is just a quick drive up. I'll visit again, and then you can give me all the sordid details – and I expect a complete blow-by-blow of what America's most eligible omega is like in the sack. But you've got to straighten things out first."

Thomas was hesitant to abandon his guest. "Angie ..." he tried again.

"Bye, Thomas," Angelica said as she got up and gathered her things. "I can see myself out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say, except that the idea that communication is key to a strong relationship plays a big part in this fic. Also, Angelica was fun to write.


	12. The Explanation

Thomas stood outside the door to the bedroom, gathering his thoughts. For the first time in a really long time, someone was upset with him and he didn't know how to make it right.

A part of him remarked at his lack of surprise at the realization that he really did want to make this right between himself and Alex – not for appearance's sake, but for the sake of his mate. His mate who may be annoying and loud and stubborn at times, but who deserved to be happy.

With a deep breath, he opened the door. “Alex?” he asked hesitantly, peeking in the room.

The omega was lounged on the bed, focused on his cellphone. He didn't even look up to acknowledge Thomas' presence.

“Alex, Swee-” no, not 'Sweetie'! He swallowed the last syllable of that word and tried to ignore Alex's wince. “Honey. Darling. What's wrong?”

“Did you smooth things over with Senator Schuyler-Church?” Alex ignored the question to ask.

“Angelica … is a lost cause,” Thomas admitted. “Truthfully? I was never very hopeful of our abilities to fool her. She's too astute. Don't worry, though; she won't tell anyone.”

Alex didn't reply, just continued to scroll on his cell.

Thomas decided to try again. “Alex. Love.” Why in the world did he wince at _that_ pet name? “What happened?”

“You kissed me,” Alex mumbled to the phone.

Thomas frowned. “Yes, I did?” he replied, confused.

“You've never … we haven't kissed before.”

Thomas blinked, surprised. The past – had it only been three days?! – had been so eventful. Thomas turned those days over in his head, rolling them around, to discover … no, no they hadn't kissed. “You're right,” he agreed.

“Our first kiss was a lie,” his mate continued.

That was … an interesting way to put it. “How was it a lie?” he asked, feeling more and more over his head.

Alex finally, _finally_ , looked at Thomas, and Thomas could see the anger, but also the hurt, in those big brown eyes. “You used our first kiss to sell the lie that our bonding is anything more than a drunken mistake,” he spat.

Those words hit Thomas like a blow, and settled their weight into his gut. _Guilt_. Guilt was the name for that sinking feeling. “I shouldn't have done that,” he admitted openly. “I'm sorry.”

But Alex was already looking at his cellphone again. “No, you shouldn't have,” he agreed bitterly.

Thomas could fix this, at least. He crawled onto the bed himself, reaching over to cup his mate's face gently, leaning forward to-

“No,” Alex said, jerking his face out of Thomas' hand.

Thomas sat back, a little stunned. “No?” he asked for confirmation.

“You don't get to just kiss and make it all better, Jefferson,” Alex hissed, and the sound of his last name hits him like another blow.

So he sat back, scooted his butt back to the headboard, pulled out his own phone, and started playing Candy Crush.

It took an hour and seventeen levels, but finally Alex sighed and rested his head on Thomas' shoulder. “I hate you,” the omega said, but the words sounded more resigned than hateful.

“Mmm. I know,” Thomas responded, fighting a grin.

“So much,” Alex continued, as he settled himself on Thomas' lap.

Thomas stopped fighting it and grinned openly at his mate. “The feeling is mutual,” he said, reaching over to again cup the omega's face in his hand.

This time, when they kissed, it was Alex claiming Thomas' mouth, Alex's tongue exploring. This kiss had none of the bite of their earlier kiss; instead, it was all sweet, a mutual coming-together. Thomas' fingers found their way to Alex's hair, to caress instead of pull; Alex wrapped his arms around Thomas' neck and seemed to be trying to meld their bodies together.

They sat there, Alex on Thomas' lap, making out like teenagers, for long enough for both to be swollen and out of breath when they finally parted. “Our second kiss,” Alex stated breathlessly.

“Third,” Thomas corrected, just as breathless. “We would have kissed at the bonding ceremony.”

And the only response that Alex made was to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh, until the laughter was swallowed by Thomas pulling him in to kiss again.

* * *

Their makeout session had been going on awhile when Thomas' scent changed, suddenly aroused. The Alpha started fiddling with the waistband of his sweats. Alex gasped into their mouths as the cold air hit his skin, but lifted himself on his shins enough for Thomas to pull them down to his knees. The Alpha then began to unfasten the front of his own trousers, and Alex pulled back to watch between his bare thighs as Thomas' erect dick emerged from beneath his boxers.

Thomas' hand then seized Alex's own dick, but hesitated. “Yeah?” Thomas asked.

Alex realized, then and there, that if he answered in the negative, or even showed the tiniest hint of hesitation, Thomas would put them both back to rights and they could go back to making out. He wouldn't be judged, he wouldn't be abandoned. Thomas might be disappointed, but he wouldn't be upset.

“Yeah,” he replied.

Thomas grinned at him, then pulled his own dick up to press along the full length of Alex's. Alex gasped again as Thomas palmed both their dicks and started stroking. Looking down, seeing his own cock alongside Thomas' larger one, watching them both emerge then disappear in Thomas' hand … it was such a heady sensation that Alex almost missed when Thomas' other hand wrapped around to probe at his entrance.

He was close to coming when Thomas stopped, to seize Alex's hips and line them up. Alex let out a wanton moan that he simply couldn't bother being embarrassed by as Thomas' cock glided into him.

One hand went around Alex's waist, to steady him while Thomas began to thrust his pelvis up and down; the other went around his back to cradle his head, bringing him forward so that he could begin sucking a hickey onto Alex's shoulder. It wasn't quite working, and Thomas wasn't going fast enough, so Alex decided to take over; raising his ass up on his shins to bring it crashing back down, again and again and again. Thomas moaned into his skin, and moved on to another spot on Alex's collarbone as his dick began to knot inside of him.

That was all it took for Alex to come with a cry, the spasms of his pleasure driving Thomas over the edge to come as well. Again and again, the pleasure of coming rolled over Alex. Again and again he orgasmed. The entire world felt floaty and hazy and _good_.

When he came down off his high enough to be sensible to the world around him, Thomas had both arms wrapped around him to hold him close, and was busy sucking a third hickey into Alex's clavicle. Alex realized that he should probably care about that, but couldn't bring himself to make the effort. If it became an issue, he could always wear a scarf. Satisfied, he allowed himself to be held until Thomas' knot deflated.

Surprisingly, when that happened, Thomas seemed reluctant to uncouple them. He didn't seem to want to let Alex go. Instead, he began sucking a fourth hickey on the other shoulder.

Alex looked down at the mess he had made of his tee, and made a decision. “Want to try out that bath scrub we got at Bath and Body Works?” he suggested, knowing full well that the master bath had a jacuzzi tub more than large enough for both of them.

Thomas looked at the clock and winced. “Dinner is in about ten minutes,” he told the omega. “Afterward?”

Alex grinned, rolling off of Thomas to change his shirt for something a bit less … soiled. In a flash of inspiration, he stripped the tee off, then tugged the sweats the rest of the way down, so that he was completely nude. He watched Thomas out of the corner of his eye as Thomas took in the entire show, purposefully getting one of the sweaters out of the bottom drawer for maximum effect. Thomas' sweater hit him mid-thigh, and he didn't particularly feel the need to put anything else on. “It's a date,” he teased, and watched Thomas' pupils dilate again as he realized that Alex was planning on going to the dining room exactly like that.

The entertainment value of the following meal had nothing to do with the food. Thomas visibly couldn't stop thinking about his mate sitting on the other side of the table, dressed in nothing but his sweater, and smelling strongly of sex. At one point, he completely missed his mouth and stabbed his cheek with a forkful of salad.

The staff seemed to find the whole situation just as amusing as Alex did.

* * *

Thomas got his revenge by reclaiming his sweater the moment they had turned into the hallway, out of the staff's line of sight. The indignant squeal of the suddenly-naked omega was worth any embarrassment he had suffered. His mate's stripped body was worth waiting through dinner to reclaim.

He grabbed two fistfuls of ass and tried his best to devour Alex's face whole, as he backed the omega towards the bathroom.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much sweet! Then so much smut! The best type of chapter, in my opinion.


	13. The Scandal

 

The next morning, Thomas was awakened by something moving across his skin. Specifically, the skin of his pelvis region. It wasn't a bad sensation, per se, it was just puzzling, and he woke up confused. Confused, right up until something warm and wet wrapped itself around his dick, and suddenly every nerve ending in his body was alight and firing. That something pulsated against the ultra sensitive skin of his shaft and head, and he moaned in wanton pleasure before he had even opened his eyes for the day.

When he did open his eyes, it was to a suspicious lump in the duvet nestled in between his legs. Thomas was about to reach down and prod the lump playfully when Alex did something _sinful_ with his tongue and he decided that the best course of action at that point was probably to just lay back and enjoy the ride.

And enjoy he did. It didn't take him long at all before he was moaning and crying out and coming down Alex's throat. Alex easily disentangled himself from Thomas' knot and began tracing the veins running through it with his tongue, which didn't speed up the deflation process. Then Alex crawled up Thomas' body, kissing and nipping at every inch of skin his mouth could reach along the way – his pelvis, his stomach, his chest, his clavicle, until finally seizing his mouth in a kiss. Thomas could taste himself on Alex's tongue, mixed in with the tastes and smells that were unique to his mate.

“Good morning,” he lazily drawled when Alex pulled back for a breath.

“Good morning, yourself,” Alex replied, a mischievous grin still on his face. “Any plans for today?”

“Nothing definite. Maybe go see a bit more of the city?”

“We could do that,” Alex agreed easily.

“Before we go, however, there's something we need to take care of first.”

“Coffee?” Alex asked eagerly.

“Well, that too,” Thomas allowed. “But I was thinking more along the lines of saying a proper thank you to my mate for the wake up call he just gave me.”

Alex's grin widened at that, then widened again when Thomas dove under the duvet himself.

* * *

After a quick shower each, they went down the hall to the dining room for breakfast and coffee. The same cereal and fresh fruit spread that had been served the past two mornings was served today. Alex had never been a breakfast person, but had to admit that there was something to a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios with fresh berries and just a bit of sugar that really helped get his morning started.

He was just in the middle of attempting to convince Thomas to perhaps diversify the cereal selection in a Cinnamon Toast Crunch direction when Abraham interrupted.

“Sirs, I'm so sorry,” he said, face flushed with embarrassment and something that looked close enough to panic to make Alex sit up and pay attention, “but I think you should see this.”

He handed Thomas an iPad, which Thomas looked at and immediately started swearing under his breath. “How bad is it?” he asked Abraham.

“It's .. it's bad, sir,” Abraham replied. “At first it just bounced around various gossip rags, but then USA Today picked it up, and, well ...”

Thomas continued to read whatever was on the iPad. Alex, a little miffed, got up to read the caption over his shoulder.

> _**SECRETARY AND SENATOR'S RELATIONSHIP A FARCE?  
> ** New evidence shows that Senator Jefferson and Secretary Hamilton's bonding Christmas Day may be a publicity stunt. _

“Who's missing?” Jefferson demanded of Abraham. It took a moment for Alex to catch up – this “new evidence” must have come from a member of Jefferson's staff.

“Samuel isn't answering his calls, sir,” Abraham answered, voice low.

Alex swallowed hard. He had started to like Samuel, too. The man might not have much to say, but he was a good driver, and he had definitely not intruded on their conversations together. In fact, Alex had completely forgotten he was there a few times.

Which, come to think of it, might have been more than the man just doing his job well.

Thomas, meanwhile, was swearing in a way that Alex had never seen, even when he had been soundly beaten in Congress. Alex went back to his seat to pull up the article on his phone.

As it was, there was no need. A quick Google search of his name pulled up dozens of different articles, all variations of the same theme.

He picked one and began to read.

* * *

The details were as damning as they were personal. The lack of luggage for Alex. The fights, too frequent to be between happy newlyweds. The general uneasiness in each other's company. Christ, they even had him running out of the parlor after Thomas kissed him yesterday afternoon.

His eyes scanned down farther.

> _ Both politicians have enjoyed a jump in popularity since their bonding. Not only has support for each man from members of the opposite political party increased, but the general public has been following this sudden love story with interest. Several fan sites have popped up displaying approval for “Thalex”, as the couple has been dubbed, featuring gif sets of the pair in public and outpourings of affection for how “cute” they are together. _
> 
> _ Secretary Hamilton, in particular, has benefited greatly. The omegan Secretary has been attacked in the past with allegations that a person of his endotype shouldn't be entrusted with such a high office, especially an unbonded omega without an Alpha to keep his mental or emotional instability in check. As much of these allegations have come from the far right, especially among the more extreme members of Senator Jefferson's Republican Party, a marriage to the Senator has effectively silenced all but the loudest opposition. _
> 
> _ But Senator Jefferson hasn't come away from this bonding empty handed. His own popularity with Hamilton's Democratic Party has skyrocketed overnight. Democrats who had written him off as just another Republican pawn have come to see him in a more flattering light. In his home state of Virginia, a recent poll post-bonding has shown the Senator to be up 13 points from the last pre-bonding poll. _
> 
> _ Yet these most recent claims, made by a member of Senator Jefferson's own staff at the Senator's Virginia home where the couple have been residing since Thursday, brings up the possibility that these benefits were exactly what the couple was hoping for when they bonded. The pair may have been affectionate in public, but these new pictures reveal a very different side of their relationship. _

Shocked, Alex scrolled back up to the top. Sure enough, there were two fuzzy but distinct photos of himself and Thomas in different parts of Monticello. The first was Alex glaring at Thomas, whose face was twisted into a smug smile, at breakfast Saturday morning. The other was Alex storming into the house after church yesterday afternoon, Thomas at the car behind him looking shocked – the angle of that photo really showed the anger on Alex's face. Dazed, Alex scrolled back down to continue reading where he left off.

> _ Marriages of convenience have a long history, especially among celebrities. But such charades have no place among our politicians – men and women whom we count on to be honest with us. If we can't trust these people not to lie about such intimate and important details about their lives, can we trust them not to lie about things like public policy and the status of our country? _

Alex swallowed again. They had the right idea, but the wrong motives. Fortunately, no one had brought up the Omega Bonding Bill yet, but it was only a matter of time before some bright young reporter connected those particular dots.

They needed to act, and fast. They needed to do something.

Alex just didn't know what.

He was a politician, yes, but a politician of convenience more than anything else. As an omega, he had absolutely no chance for a lifelong career in politics, as he had absolutely no chance that the American public would ever vote him into any office, at all. Even a local election, even one that was uncontested; the locals would make a fuss until some Alpha or beta stepped up to run against him, and that would be the end of it. The only reason he had his current appointment was because of his past with Washington, that he had been able to impress the Alpha. He had been with Washington when they had both been in the Army, then when Washington had won a seat in the Senate, and now as President. 

But never, in those years, had he faced a scandal like this one. Never had he had to deal with managing the fallout. He felt something that he hadn't in years – completely lost, in over his head.

Fortunately, he knew someone that had grown up in politics. Someone who had faced scandals and won. Someone who would know what to do next.

It killed him to swallow his pride like this, and rely on an Alpha to make everything better. But never let it be said that Alexander Hamilton allowed his pride, large as it was, to get in the way of what needed to be done.

He sighed, and turned to his mate. “What do we do next?” he asked Thomas.

Or, at least, tried.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, that part of every fake dating/marriage fic is here -- people discover The Truth. How will our couple fix the scandal?
> 
> Do you guys think Samuel did it?


	14. The Reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little early, as it's been finished since yesterday, and I didn't feel like waiting to post it any longer.

Alex surveyed the pandemonium on the other side of the table. At its center sat Thomas.

“Get me Sybil on the phone! Sybil Ludington!” He had pushed back his breakfast plates, to fit his laptop that had somehow been spirited down from the office and placed in front of him. “No, Friday doesn't work; we need an appointment asap, not in a week!” His staff hovered about him like drones around a queen bee. “Where's Nancy? Hell of a day to get sick!” Abraham stood to the side, directing the staff's effort in a calm and slow voice that contrasted with Thomas' loud and commanding one. “You've got ahold of Samuel? Good; tell him not to come in today, or ever. Tell him that he's fired effective immediately.” A servant whose name Alex didn't know filled Thomas' coffee cup, Thomas downed the coffee, black, in one go, winced briefly at the taste, and was back to typing furiously at his laptop.

One thing stuck out in Alex's mind, however. “Thomas?” he hailed his mate, to no avail. “Thomas?” The  _ tip-tip-tip _ of computer keys was the only answer. “ _ Thomas _ !”

“What?!” Thomas bit back, then realized whom he was speaking to. “Sorry, Darling, what is it?”

“Why are you firing Samuel?”

“Because he's the one responsible for all this!” Thomas answered with an “of course” tone to his voice.

“Thomas, Samuel physically couldn't have done this, at least not alone. Look.” Alex got up and went around the table, to show Thomas the photos that had been taken and leaked; specifically, the one of him storming into the house after church, with Thomas standing by the car in the background. “Look, Samuel drove us that day, remember? That's him right there. So unless he had some very, very sophisticated equipment set up at exactly the right time on exactly the right day to get this shot – equipment that, somehow, no one noticed – or he wasn't the one who took this photo.”

Thomas stared at the familiar silhouette in the photograph – Samuel kept his naturally curly hair in a faux hawk that gave the man a very distinct look. There was no questioning the identity of the driver of that car in the photo.

“Both these photos were taken by someone within the house, not someone who works outside the house, like a driver,” Alex pointed out the obvious.

“Then who ...” Thomas asked, before his eyes lit up. “This photo was taken from the tea room.” He flagged down Abraham, getting his attention. “Abraham, was anyone in the tea room when we came home from church yesterday afternoon?”

Abraham frowned, thinking. “We do our weekly cleaning on Sunday, sir,” he reminded Thomas. “I believe … yes, Nancy was in the tea room dusting at that point.”

Nancy. Who was out sick. “How long has she been working for you?” Alex asked Thomas, knowing full well that most of his staff had been working for him for years, some decades, and others, like Abraham, had worked for the Jefferson family for generations.

“We hired her on a few months ago,” Thomas replied. “She's attending the University, and needed a job to offset some of her student loans … oh my God.”

“I wonder how many semesters' worth of tuition these photos got her?” Alex mused bitterly.

“Abraham, inform Nancy that she is never to set foot on my property again,” Thomas asked the man, voice hard with suppressed anger.

“Already done, sir,” Abraham informed him as he hung up the phone. “And Samuel sends his apologies; apparently his power was down last night, so his alarm clock didn't go off, and his phone didn't charge. He says he'll be here in twenty minutes.”

“Tell him to make it thirty,” Thomas said, just a tad sheepishly. “We aren't planning on going anywhere at the moment, and I don't want him to hurt himself speeding.”

Alex took a moment to wonder if Samuel would ever know how close he had come to being fired.

* * *

His mate might not know anything about politics, Thomas mused, but he kept a level head under pressure, and that was just as important. The Alpha made sure not to let his mortification at almost firing the wrong man show. Samuel had worked for him for over a decade; he had never had such a skilled driver. It would have been a tragedy to repay those years of loyalty in such a way.

“Here's what we're going to do,” Thomas stated, and watched Alex's attention focus on him. He knew his mate could be stubborn at times, and was glad that Alex was letting him take the lead in this situation. “First of all, I've gotten us an interview with Sybil tomorrow; Washington will just have to excuse our presence in D.C. for that.” Sybil Ludington ran one of the most popular political blogs, The Columbia Star; their interview would be on that blog as well as her YouTube channel by mid-afternoon, and would quickly spread from there. “We are going to sit down and talk with her, and we are going to play the part of the perfect couple to a T. We are going to take some time this evening to go over our story, so that our every answer comes easily and matches.”

The entire room got silent for a moment.

“Do you mean, sir, that your relationship with Mr. Alex _isn't_ real?” Abraham asked, and Thomas could have cursed at what he had just given away.

“No, it's not,” he admitted. “We've known each other for years, but we've never liked each other. Then we got drunk after the Winter Holiday Ball, and … one thing led to another … and, in my inebriated state, I proposed; and Alex, in his similar state, accepted.”

Silence reigned in the room, and then:

“I knew it! I told you!”

“But you're so cute together!”

“ 'Never liked each other,' _my ass_ ; I've seen them go at it!”

“You owe me $10!”

“Well, that explains a lot!”

In the center of it all, Abraham stared at him, looking pained.

“I … hope this won't make things … difficult?” Thomas hedged, not sure what he needed to make sure of, but needing to make sure of it anyway.

“It's entirely your decision, sir, whom you bond with and whom you have relations with; I'm not going to say anything one way or another. However, I'll admit that I feel a little hurt that you didn't admit to this farce earlier, at least to me. It certainly would have made things easier.”

Thomas blinked, shocked, and could have kicked himself. Of  _ course _ he should have told Abraham; the man was completely loyal, and would have been incredibly helpful in continuing their ruse. “You're right,” he admitted. “I should have told you. My God, Abraham; I really should have.” He turned his body in the chair so he was facing the man. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Abraham smiled. “There's nothing to forgive, sir.”

The two men clasped hands, and Thomas felt relieved of a great burden, one he didn't even realize was so heavy until that very instant.

The moment lasted until Alex cleared his throat. “Right,” Thomas said, dropping Abraham's hand and turning back to his mate. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Abraham step back, in a position of support – where he had always been, Thomas reflected. “As for this afternoon, you and I are going to walk the Downtown Mall. We're going to go into any store that strikes our fancy, we're going to dine at one of the restaurants, and we're going to do it all while being disgustingly in love. We are going to act as if this claim is so wrong, that it's not even worth correcting. If anyone else on the Mall has the gall to ask us about it, we're going to laugh in their faces, and continue on our way. We are going to act like we don't have a care in the world, like we're two newlyweds enjoying an afternoon together – nothing more, and certainly nothing less.”

Alex nodded in agreement, but the man was still tense. His mind might still be working at full capacity, but his body was acting like he expected to be attacked at any moment.  _ He's Army _ , Thomas reminded himself.

So Thomas did the only logical thing – he stood up and went over to kiss his mate, softly but thoroughly. He could feel Alex relaxing into his arms, but it wasn't enough. Ignoring the coos of his staff at such an open display of affection, he scooped Alex up so that his legs were wrapped around Thomas' hips, and continued to kiss him as he walked the back to the bedroom.

He deposited the omega on the edge of the bed, and immediately went to work unzipping the fly of his jeans. Alex chittered excitedly as he kneeled in front of the man, between his spread legs, and took his dick into his mouth in one go.

Those chitters turned to moans as he positioned the dick on his tongue, sucking and licking. His hands pulled those jeans as well as his boxer briefs all the way off, and unbuttoned his own jeans, while his tongue traced around the man's frenulum and down the protruding veins of his shaft. He continued to suck on the dick as he pulled his mouth off. Alex made a whine of protest, but couldn't sustain that protest for very long, because Thomas was pushing him back to lie on the bed while the Alpha himself stood up. He pressed a single finger into the omega's hole, to make sure the man was ready, before sinking himself in to the hilt.

Neither man was far from coming as Thomas grabbed Alex's hips and began to thrust into him.

It took only a few thrusts before Alex came with a loud moan. His pleasure tipped Thomas over the edge, and the Alpha came right after with his own cry. He felt the familiar sensation of his knot filling out and locking them into place, and bent over to kiss and suck at his partner's neck and shoulders until the knot deflated.

Alex lay there, boneless in his pleasure, completely relaxed, and sighed in contentment at Thomas' kisses.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you guys doubted Samuel. *tsk, tsk*
> 
> This chapter's chitters are dedicated to [Inspire_me_to_breathe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Inspire_me_to_breathe), who was upset to see that there was no chittering in the last chapter. In fact, that's the only reason there's a sex scene in this chapter at all.
> 
> Bonus points for anyone who gets the Sybil reference!
> 
> Next chapter: back to the Mall. Also, Thomas reveals what he remembers from that night, the night of the Ball.


	15. The Mall

Samuel dropped them off at the east end of the Downtown Mall, close to where they had been that night after the Winter Holiday Ball. At least, that's what Thomas told him; Alex had absolutely no memory of that night.

Thomas had insisted on holding hands while they strolled through the Mall, and Alex didn't argue the point. He was far too busy looking around him. Thomas, he knew, watched with fond amusement as Alex took in the beauty of the historical landmark.

They passed the City Hall, and Alex studied the relief statues of three men identified as James Madison, Thomas Jefferson, and James Monroe with interest. He looked to Thomas for explanation. “Our ancestors, James' and mine,” the Alpha explained. “They fought in the First War of Independence.”

“I suppose you're named after him?” Alex asked.

Thomas laughed. “Families as old as mine, we tend to latch onto two or three names for each gender and just cycle through them. For us Jeffersons, those names are Thomas and Peter.”

“What about Randolph?” Alex teased lightly.

Thomas laughed again. “Family name on my _mother's_ side,” he explained.

They passed a large slate wall, which various people had written and doodled on with the provided chalk. “What about the homeless?” had been written right beside “Love you Vanna!” which had been written alongside “I will not write on this chalkboard” again and again in imitation of Bart Simpson, which was beside “10000 for this stupid board, but still no 29 bypass” which was above something written in what looked like Gujarati, which was below “suck my dick”. A beautifully executed chalk version of _La Liberté guidant le peuple_ flying a maroon flag with a “VT” on it instead of the French flag (which Thomas explained was the emblem for Virginia Tech, the chief rival of the local University of Virginia) was alongside a childish doodle of a little girl, which was (fortunately) on the other side from a startlingly-detailed drawing of the female anatomy.

Alex read it all, taking in these little snippets into the thoughts and aspirations of the people who wrote them. Thomas wrapped himself around the smaller man and read over his shoulder, occasionally dipping down to place a kiss on whatever skin was accessible.

Unfortunately, that wasn't much. The late December weather wasn't forgiving to someone used to a more tropical climate, so Alex had come prepared in a thick peacoat, gloves, a hat, and the thickest scarf he could find. As he read, and became colder and colder due to the inactivity of just standing there, he became more cold; as a result, he ducked his face into his scarf until only his eyes were uncovered. Thomas countered this by reaching up to pull the scarf down long enough to kiss the now-bare skin of his neck before putting it back.

They were eventually noticed. It was inevitable; and, indeed, was the entire point of this excursion. Out of the corner of his eye Alex could see passers-by discreetly snapping pictures with their phones or nudging their companions to point the couple out. One girl even turned her back to them to take a selfie with them in the background.

He found the attention odd. It wasn't that he wasn't used to the public eye – he was. It was that, until now, most of the public attention that he received involved tweets and emails – some pleasant, some less so. He wasn't used to being identified and noticed _in person_ , wasn't used to engaging with the public without the safety of a computer screen between himself and his accosters, and found himself growing tense.

Thomas must have felt his muscles tightening. He pulled down the omega's scarf just far enough to whisper, “you're fine, they won't touch you,” in his ear before nibbling at his lobe. Alex, predictably, giggled at the gesture; and the tension was broken.

They walked on, only going a block before it was Thomas' turn to go tense. “Are you alright?” Alex asked him, trying to keep the worry out of his voice and, more importantly, off his face.

“Do you remember anything of the night we were bonded?” Thomas asked instead of answering.

“No, I don't,” Alex admitted. “The last thing I remember is you pushing me into your car; then I was waking up the next morning.” He walked a few steps. “Why?”

Thomas pointed to a building – the Commonwealth Skybar. “We ate there,” he told the man.

Alex practically stopped in his tracks, before remembering where they are and what they're doing. “You remember that night?”

“All of it,” Thomas confessed. “Well … most of it. I don't remember most of the ceremony, and I have absolutely no recollection of getting home afterwards. But everything before that … yeah.”

“You'll have to tell me about it,” Alex all but demanded. Then winced. “As soon as we're somewhere private.”

Thomas smiled down at the omega. “It's a date.”

* * *

Really, it was unfair just how cute Thomas' mate was, all bundled up. Sure, it was cold outside, and sure, there was a bit of a breeze going; but it was barely below freezing. This was a mild caress compared to the worse that Virginia's winters could throw at them.

Or D.C.'s winters, for that matter. How in the world had Alex survived the years he'd lived there?

Either way, Thomas took every opportunity to touch and kiss and caress the poofball of outerwear that his bondmate had become. Which is how he realized that said bondmate was actually getting quite cold already.

They decided to stop at Java Java, a café, to warm up. Alex got a muffin, Thomas got a honey cluster, and both men got lattes. They claimed the loveseat in the back, and Thomas felt Alex warm up bit by bit as the latte and the central heating did their jobs.

Afterwards, Thomas insisted on going to the Men's and Boy's Shop, where Alex went straight for the sweaters and gloves, and Thomas was happy just to wander behind him.

He couldn't wander behind him at the next store, unfortunately. Alex saw the sign for Derriere de Soie, and refused to allow Thomas in the store with him. Thomas grumbled, but waited obediently while he mate went into the lingerie shop, even agreeing to wait in the outdoor dining area so that he couldn't peek in the glass storefront. Not even Candy Crush could take his mind off of the delicious things his mate must be browsing through, running his fingers over, taking to the back to try on ...

When Alex finally reappeared, Thomas insisted on the omega making it up to him by going to the Virginia Shop, which sold everything from food to playing cards to books, all of which was produced in Virginia. Thomas blushed at the book about Monticello, and insisted that Alex needed a “Virginia is for Lovers” mug. Alex then raised him a brass dogwood bookmark, which Thomas found quite pretty, and a Virginia Tech coaster, which horrified the Alpha.

After that, Alex confessed that he was hungry.

“You burn a lot of calories shivering,” Thomas agreed, earning him a punch in the arm.

Thomas insisted that he knew just the place, and all but dragged him down the Mall another block, and refused to tell him where they were going. It was completely worth it, however, when Alex saw the front of the restaurant and burst out laughing.

They had dinner that night at Hamilton's.

* * *

They were almost ready to go home – and wasn't it interesting to think of Monticello as “home”? But as they were walking to where they were going to meet Samuel, Alex saw a bookstore.

“No,” Thomas said.

“We didn't get to go to a bookstore in the regular mall,” Alex reminded him.

“The regul- oh. That's because there weren't any.”

“Just one more stop?”

“I've seen you in bookstores before, Hamilton. I want to go home at some point tonight.”

“C'mon, Thomas, I'll only be a minute.”

“No. Samuel will be waiting soon.”

Which is how they ended up in New Dominion Bookstore. And dragging two additional bags to their rendezvous with Samuel.

* * *

That evening, Thomas packed enough clothes for several days, including several of his best suits, while Alex folded the items Thomas had purchased for him and packed them in the additional suitcase Thomas had loaned him. Their interview with Sybil would be in the morning, so they decided to spend the night in D.C., giving them the most time possible to primp and look their best.

“Are you sure you don't want to stay at my apartment?” Thomas tried for what felt like the hundredth time to talk sense into his mate.

“Thomas, please,” Alex said, and the stubborn Secretary with whom he had had this conversation earlier was suddenly replaced by a begging omega. “This is my home, and I'm giving it up. For you. Probably as soon as we move back to D.C. after our honeymoon, in just a week. Please.” He placed his hand on Thomas' knee. “Just give me this.”

Thomas grumbled, but found that he couldn't deny his mate when he begged him so prettily, a fact that was rather alarming. Since when did he think about _Hamilton_ in that way?

Still, Alex was Secretary of the Treasury, a position that came with a very nice salary. Even given the less opulent conditions that most omegan apartments were kept at, it couldn't be _that_ bad.

Could it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [statues of Madison, Jefferson, and Monroe](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/6e/Flickr_2768192221_Charlottesville_City_Hall.jpg/800px-Flickr_2768192221_Charlottesville_City_Hall.jpg) are a real thing, and are even part of the [City of Charlottesville's Seal](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/4/4c/Charlottesville.png).
> 
> The slate wall is also a real thing; it's called the Freedom of Speech Wall, and it was put up by the Thomas Jefferson Center for Free Expression. It's also super controversial, because people have a tendancy to draw rather graphic things, and then the City is stuck between a rock and a hard place -- should they remove the image or not? They removed one image of a, well, to put it delicately, a phallic object protruding from female genitalia, after a citizen complained. People don't want their kids seeing that sort of thing (and, honestly, can you blame them?), but at the same time, removing it is technically censorship, which is exactly what the Wall is supposed to combat ... it's a mess. Every single thing I mentioned on the Wall are actual things that have been on there at one point or another.
> 
> As always, every shop they visit is a real thing, including Hamilton's. It's a little past my price point, so I've never actually been there myself. I love the Virginia Shop (and have purchased several things there, including these "car coasters", which are really cool coasters that are much smaller than normal ones, to fit in car cup holders). I get the New Dominion Bookstore's emails.
> 
> What do you guys think Alex's apartment is going to be like?


	16. The Eye-Opener

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's kinda heavy, you guys. Thomas gets a little lesson on just how privileged he is to have been born an Alpha, and a rich one at that.

It was bad.

Thomas was very careful to hide his reaction, but inside he was screaming.

It wasn't the clutter everywhere, although he was halfway expecting that. Hamilton was known for his mountainous stacks of paper, a system of organized chaos that was understood only by him. The omega didn't seem to understand the purpose of a  _filing cabinet_ – at least, Thomas  _hoped_ that he didn't, and that the reason those stacks of paper existed wasn't because the cabinet was simply too full.

It wasn't the size of the apartment, as Thomas was also expecting it to be small. His mate didn't strike him as the type to live extravagantly, or to spend money on something that he didn't absolutely need. He would have gotten an apartment large enough to sleep and eat at, and not much else. Thomas wondered in passing if the omega ever entertained here.

It wasn't even the lack of personalization, although that tugged at his heart a bit. Sure, there were photos in frames here and there of various people, and a blanket hanging off the couch that was decorated with the Columbia University colors and logo. But everything else, for the most part, was generic, safe, unadorned.

No – what really made Thomas' skin crawl was how  _cheap_ everything was.

Most omegas without a mate lived in omegan housing, apartments that came prefurnished. The idea was that omegas were much more transient than the other endotypes, forming and dissolving nests, and eventually – in theory, at least – settling down with a mate. Omegan housing also tended to rent month to month instead of for an entire year. That way, if an omega decided to move in with a friend, or formed a pairbond, there was very little to pack and very little holding them back. There was nothing stopping an omega from renting a regular apartment, and nothing stopping an Alpha or beta from renting an omegan apartment – that's just how it usually went.

Of course, within the category of “omegan housing”, there was a large amount of variety. With the kind of salary Thomas knew Alex made, he expected the omega to be living in an apartment on the higher end of the scale.

Not so. Not only was the apartment small – with only two rooms, a bathroom and a combined kitchen-dining-living-bedroom – but the furnishings provided were cheap and ugly, designed to last for as long as humanly possible. One side of the great room featured a couch and two chairs of the 'two wooden panels supporting an upholstered seat and back' variety, and the desk in the corner with the piles of paper resting beside it was made from the same generic wood slats. On the other side, stuck behind a standing screen for “privacy”, the (admittedly large) bed was made of the same design and materials. The floor they all rested on was cheap vinyl, and the ceiling was drop tile. It made the entire place look like a cheap motel. No, it made it look like …

“It's a dorm room,” Thomas said, only afterwards realizing that he had said it out loud.

Alex, interestingly enough, didn't seem to be offended. “It serves its purposes,” he said blandly. He stood beside Thomas, taking in the apartment along with him, as if trying to see it with fresh eyes to understand what Thomas thought of it.

Thomas thought long and hard about how to word what he was about to say, making sure every nuance and facial expression was just right. “You love this place, hmm?” he asked, putting as much positivity into that one sentence as possible.

Alex still looked at him askance. “Why do you say that?” he returned, in a tone of voice that told Thomas that he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to be offended yet, but was quickly leaning towards the affirmative.

“Well,” Thomas thought quick, “you seemed reluctant to give it up on the way here.”

Alex snorted at that in quasi-amusement. “It might not look like much,” he allowed, “but it's home.”

Thomas was tired of beating around the issue, and gathered up his arguments. “But, Darling,  _why_ ?” he asked, making his eyes wide and his face soft to show Alex that he was inquiring out of concern for the omega and not judgment. “You make so much more money than this.”

Alex snorted again. “But I have to save most of it,” he reminded Thomas, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Save most of it?” Thomas repeated, feeling like he was missing something obvious.

“Yes,” Alex replied. “For when I lose my job.”

_This_ was news. “Are you … is your job in jeopardy? Do you think Washington might fire you?!” The Alpha seemed amicable enough when he and Alex talked on the phone Friday morning, but things might have changed since then. Maybe Washington was more upset than Thomas knew.

“Of course not!” Alex spat, and now he _was_ offended. “Washington needs me. But, well, he's President. And reelection is in two years. And, yes, his numbers are high enough that a second term is all but guaranteed, but that means I only have six years.” This all had the sound of well-trod territory, something that Alex had thought through again and again until the ideas were as natural as breathing. “Washington isn't a young man; he's not going to run for Senate again or anything like that. And I doubt that the next President will want someone as, frankly, _divisive_ as an omega in their Cabinet. Which means that I have, at best, six years before I'm out of a job.”

Thomas blinked at that, not sure exactly where to begin. “So you get a new job,” he reminded the man. “You will have served on the President of the United State's Cabinet for eight years at that point, Alex; Christ, any company would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah?” Alex asked, turning suddenly. “Which companies? Tell me, Thomas, _Alpha_ , what companies are going to want to hire an uppity omega as anything other than a pencil pusher? Or a gopher? Or someone to answer their phones and direct their calls? Please, tell me, and name names; don't leave out any details! Because I'd love to meet these companies.”

Thomas was stunned. Not because of where this rabbit hole of madness had led his mate, but because he was  _right_ . Most omegas went into the service industry, or the hospitality industry, or something along those lines. Those omegas that pushed farther, who went into business or law or medicine, quickly found themselves promoted only so far and no farther. It was fine to trust an omega to make your coffee, or to book your flight, or even to help fix your computer; but to trust an omega with your business, with your freedom, with your  _life_ ?

Alex had flown as high as he would ever get – far, far higher than the vast majority of his peers, perhaps as high as any omega had ever flown. But, the problem with soaring above the rest was that there was only one way to go when you ran out of thrust.

Alex was watching him now, watching the sheer  _truth_ of what he was saying hit Thomas, and was almost shaking with the intensity of it. “I'm 34 years old now,” he continued, almost manic now. “Which means that in six years I'll be 40. Which means that I might have to plan for as many as sixty years of not having any income coming in – sixty years of medical emergencies and the car dying unexpectedly and living in a  _nursing home_ – fuck, do you know how much a nursing home  _costs_ -”

Thomas could bear no more – he grabbed the omega and pulled him to himself in a tight hug. He could feel the man shaking, shaking under the weight of a future that was as fragile as a glass egg. “How long have you known?” he asked into the omega's hair.

“Since Washington hired me,” he replied immediately, and Thomas felt like cursing. Washington, then a Senator, had hired Hamilton as an aide eleven years ago – when the man was 23. At an age that he should be partying until some ungodly hour of the morning with his friends and drinking entirely too much alcohol, when his only care should be whether or not to hit on the cutie at the bar, Alex had been surveying his finances like the general of a beaten army, and realized that he had to do the impossible and feed the hungry masses from the proverbial loaves and fishes.

Realized that living as frugally as possible now meant that he could choose the quality of his life later.

“It won't come to that,” Thomas snarled suddenly. “Do you hear me? It won't come to that.” He held the omega even tighter as the man suddenly broke down in sobs. “I won't let it. You will never – never – _never_ – live in a shoebox apartment with crappy furniture ever again. You'll pack up everything that's yours, and we're going back to my apartment – no, I don't want to hear it – and you'll never again sleep on – Christ, is that duvet made of _wool_?! – well, whatever it is, you'll never sleep on it ever again. I won't hear of it. It's Egyptian cotton and memory foam mattresses from here on out, do you hear me? Memory foam, and Starbucks, and … and tailored suits – don't think I don't know off-the-rack when I see it – and … and trips to Paris and Italy, and winters in the Caribbean-”

“Not the Caribbean,” Alex interrupted him to insist.

“Fine, then the Maldives. Or whatever, we'll figure it out. The point is, it's only the best for my omega from here out.”

Alex hesitated, but Thomas could tell it was only to get himself under control. “Okay,” he agreed.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Good.” Thomas felt himself calm, felt his proverbial hackles settling back down. “But there's one thing we need to do before we do any of that.”

“What are we doing?” Alex asked, and this time his hesitation had nothing to do with emotion.

“We're going to go over to that bed, and I'm going to strip you down to nothing, and then I'm going to make you come all over that godforsaken duvet.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “It's a comforter, Thomas, not a duvet,” he reminded the man. But didn't resist in the slightest as Thomas pulled him over towards the bed.

* * *

Thomas was true to his word. Alex soon found himself naked and on his hands and knees on the bed. He felt the mattress dip down suddenly as Thomas climbed onto the bed behind him.

Alex was becoming more and more convinced that Thomas was much more traumatized by their earlier discussion than Alex was. The cry had been cathartic, but the pressure of making sure he could support his own future was so familiar that it would take some time to sink in that he didn't have to carry it any longer. It was just part of who he was.

Thomas, though, was treating him like a delicate flower that might be crushed by any sudden movements. He would have thought that he would be annoyed by that, but instead it felt … amusing? Alex was amused that the Alpha felt the need to baby him. And maybe, just maybe, a little nice, to have someone else looking out for his well-being.

Amusing and nice didn't mean preferred, however. Thomas actually took the time to prep him – prep him! – like he was a beta or Alpha whose body didn't produce its own lubricant. Then, when Thomas finally seated himself within the omega, his thrusts were smooth and shallow, barely even moving at all. Not even Alex's first lover had been this gentle with him.

So Alex took matters into his own hands. He began rocking his hips back in forth in time with Thomas' thrusts, to create a sharper movement. Thomas tried to still the omega's hips, but Alex was having none of it. From what Alex supposed was pure habit, Thomas reacted by smacking Alex on the ass, a clear warning. The sudden, sharp pain caused Alex to moan before he even realized what he had done.

That seemed to be all the permission Thomas needed. The Alpha finally got the memo, and started moving in earnest. His pelvis slammed into Alex's ass, right where he had just smacked it, and the rough handling caused Alex to chitter in excitement.

Thomas delivered. He slammed again and again into Alex, building the omega up. When Alex looked over his shoulder to tease Thomas about his sudden change in technique, the omega found his face mashed into the comforter instead. Face down, ass up, it didn't take long for Alex to come on himself, and on the comforter, as promised.

Thomas followed suit, but for the first time pulled out right before his knot swelled up. Instead, Thomas added his own mess to Alex's. The visual was hot enough that Alex felt his dick twitch in interest. It was just a little movement, but Thomas must have noticed, because before Alex knew what was happening Thomas had one hand wrapped around his dick and the other pressed into his hole. Thomas began stroking his dick and moving his fingers in and out at the same time, curving the fingers so they hit Alex's prostrate with every thrust. Alex wailed at the overstimulation, but when Thomas paused to make sure his mate was alright, he began babbling a litany of, “don't stop, don't you dare stop, keep going, don't stop!”

Alex wailed again as he came a second time, then collapsed onto the bed, completely spent. Thomas joined him there.

Alex suddenly realized that the entire room smelled like Thomas. The asshole must have been pressing his scent glands, claiming the apartment and everything within it as his own – including the apartment's resident. Alex, still naked, wrapped around Thomas, who sleepily drew him in. It might be nice to be a possession, just for a little bit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we don't realize how privileged we are until we catch a glimpse of the other side. Our lives may be hard, and we may feel like we're playing the Game of Life on "Hard" difficulty level. Then we realize that others, just because of the color of their skin or their social status or their gender, are playing their Game on the exact same difficulty level, but with keys that stick. It's a hard lesson to learn, to accept the truth of our own privilege.
> 
> In case you couldn't picture the type of furniture in Alex's apartment, [here's](http://commercialsupplydistributors.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/Heavy-Duty-Solid-Pine-Chair-and-Sofa.png) a pic of living room furniture of the type I was trying to describe.
> 
> In happier news, this fic has fanart, thanks to the amazing [Inspire_me_to_breathe](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Inspire_me_to_breathe)! Here's [our boys in the snow on the Mall](http://inspire-me-to-breathe.tumblr.com/post/155655071083/caitieberrie-look-what-you-made-me-do-heres) (SFW), and here [they are having a bit of fun in the bedroom](http://inspire-me-to-breathe.tumblr.com/post/155602376098/erm-yeah-i-drew-this-bcos-redberries-fic-that) (NSFW). Go give them lots of love, both on [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Inspire_me_to_breathe) and on [Tumblr](http://inspire-me-to-breathe.tumblr.com)!


	17. The Interview

Thomas woke up first. He checked his phone, careful not to disturb the still-sleeping omega at his side, and winced when he saw the time. Guess Alex was getting his wish after all. He texted Samuel not to expect them until the morning, finagled himself and Alex under the sheets without rousing the other man too much, set the alarm on his phone, and drifted back to sleep.

He awoke some time later to Alex nuzzling and mouthing at the line of his jaw. He groaned, preparing to turn the omega down, but Alex didn't seem to want to do anything more. Likely the omega had just realized where they were and that Thomas hadn't insisted on going back to his own apartment, and was thanking him. He went back to sleep with Alex wrapped around him and pillowing his head on Thomas' chest.

The next time he awoke was to the alarm on his phone going off. Alex groaned next to him, and Thomas had to admit to himself that he agreed wholeheartedly. What was this poor excuse for a mattress made out of, anyway? Gravel? He shifted around to get out of the bed, and his back stiffened in protest.

Still, they had a full day ahead of them, and he knew that his back would loosen up as he got moving. “C'mon, Alex,” he said, reaching over to shake the omega into wakefulness.

Alex replied by mumbling something completely incoherent into the pillow, but that definitely sounded like a refusal.

“Alex, we gotta get ready,” Thomas tried again.

Alex didn't even bother to respond this time, just pulled the blankets over his head.

Thomas sighed. “Fine. I was gonna ask you to show me how the shower works-” the hand pulling the blankets over Alex stilled “-but if you want to sleep instead ...”

Alex seemed to consider for a moment, before yanking the covers off and standing up. “Shower's this way,” he grumbled, leading Thomas towards the only other room in the apartment.

Thomas tried not to grin too hard at the victory.

* * *

The shower started off tame enough. Thomas grumbled at the low quality of the toiletries available, but lathered up anyway. Then insisted on lathering up Alex's hair himself. Then insisted on washing Alex's body. Then insisted on cleaning Alex's ass, paying special attention to the cleft and his hole. Then used a soapy hand to clean Alex's cock, making sure to get in between all the wrinkles and folds, as well as his balls and the sensitive area right underneath them …

Alex came with a shout. Thomas smirked at him, helped him rinse off the soap, then kicked him out of the shower so that he himself could wash in peace.

Rolling his eyes, Alex toweled himself off, then went in search of something to wear. He pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and an undershirt, but nothing else. Instead, he picked out an outfit from his closet and waited.

That wait was justified when Thomas came out of the bathroom dressed in only the towel, took one look at the ensemble laid out on the bed, and insisted on choosing something himself for Alex to wear. Alex smirked behind his back as Thomas thumbed through his wardrobe – they hadn't even been married a week, but he had already learned so much about his mate. Thomas eventually settled on a tan sweater from the wardrobe and one of the nicer designer jeans the Alpha himself had had purchased.

The levity left, however, when both men were washed, shaved, dressed, and ready to go. The enormity of what they were about to do – or, more importantly, just how easily it could go very, very wrong – settled on their shoulders with an almost-physical weight.

* * *

Alex had seen Sybil online many times, of course, but never in person. The bright, bubbly, Korean-American beta in her mid-20s was easy to like. But Alex knew not to fall for the sweet persona – Sybil seemed to be a genuinely nice person, but she was known to pull questions out of thin air that could pack quite a wallop. She was dressed in a brown tweed jacket and skirt over a floral blouse that managed to look professional and relaxed at the same time.

“Thomas, it's nice to see you again,” she said, turning a thousand-watt smile on the man. “It's been too long – since that hearing over the Water Bill, wasn't it?” She and the Alpha shook hands amicably. “And this is your mate?”

“Alex, this is Sybil Ludington; Sybil, this is Alexander Hamilton.” Thomas went through the motions of an introduction, although none was needed; both parties knew who the other person was.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hamilton,” Sybil said, offering her hand to Alex – although she hesitated, just a little, over the name.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Alex responded brightly, shaking that hand. “We decided that I wouldn't take my mate's name, as I'm already known professionally by my birth name.”

Behind Sybil's back, Thomas started – just a little, but enough for Alex to notice. He obviously hadn't considered the matter one way or another.

“Makes sense,” Sybil replied. “Let's get started.”

It wasn't a format Alex was familiar with, but one that was simple enough. He and Thomas sat on two chairs facing Sybil, who sat on her own. Two cameras were facing both groups, but were out of the other camera's field of view. Technicians would switch back and forth to either camera, depending on who was talking. The rest Alex _was_ familiar with: keep things light and concise, look at the interviewer not the camera, things like that.

“This is going to be aired on Facebook Live and YouTube Live, so I need to ask ahead of time: any subjects off-topic?” Sybil asked with only a few minutes to go.

“My pre-career past and childhood, please,” Alex answered, as he had at every interview. Beside him, he felt Thomas stiffen, just a little, and was reminded that he would eventually need to satisfy his mate's curiosity.

Alex watched as the red light on the camera facing him went red – they were live. Sybil did her introduction for her show, then got into the interview itself.

As things went, it was fairly tame. “You've been accused of faking a relationship for publicity; is that true?” she asked.

Thomas jumped right in. “Of course not,” he lied easily – although, strictly speaking, it _wasn't_ true. “Alex – excuse me, Secretary Hamilton – and I feel very strongly for one another.” Alex allowed himself a little smile at the sentiment.

“So, you haven't benefited at all from your bonding?” Sybil asked, her face soft and sweet but her words had teeth.

“Beyond being happier in our personal lives?” Thomas teased gently. “Probably. I'll be honest with you, Sybil – I don't know. I haven't been much on social media, or the Internet as a whole, since last Thursday.”

“Well, social media certainly hasn't forgotten you two,” Sybil responded, and it wasn't until Thomas chuckled that Alex realized it was supposed to be a joke. “Eating together, shopping together – photos of you two together in public have been all over the Internet since Thursday. Was your bonding planned?”

Alex decided to step in. “Honestly, Sybil?” he began. “No. We both had had a little bit to drink, were definitely getting into the holiday spirits, if you know what I mean.” He grinned at his own joke as Sybil barked a laugh at the pun. “We undoubtedly would have bonded at some point; the alcohol just sped up the inevitable. When we sobered up and realized what we had done, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.”

“As nice as a formal ceremony would have been, and having our friends there,” Thomas began, and Alex was a little surprised at just how much heat was in his mate's eyes as they gazed down on the omega, “we couldn't imagine it any other way. We certainly didn't want to have it annulled.”

It was a mistake, using that word, and Alex saw that Thomas realized it from the tightening around his eyes. Maybe Sybil wouldn't pick up on it …

“Which brings me to an interesting question,” Sybil began, and Alex could see in her eyes that their hopes were in vain, that she was going for the kill, “did the Omega Bonding Bill pay any role in your decision to stay bonded?”

And in that critical moment, Alex froze. What to say? He couldn't lie and say that it didn't; because of course it did, how could it not? There was no decision to make if you faced a 'yes' or 'no' problem and one of those two courses of actions was illegal. And if he said that it, in fact, had … ?

Fortunately, Thomas didn't freeze. He laughed. “Sybil, I hardly had to make our pair-bond official to get into this one's pants,” Thomas stated, and his eyes were practically smoldering as he captured Alex's hand and brought it to his lips to kiss. And, even though this was the man whom he had just let give him a handy in the shower only a few hours ago, Alex could feel himself start to blush at the attention.

Sybil broke up the moment by laughing again. “Just a reminder, Senator, that we are live,” she chastised him gently for the sexual content of his answer. “Just one more question – why the lack of photos on _your_ social media accounts? Most couples I know, especially couples in a new relationship, practically carpet the Internet with selfies of themselves and their significant other.”

Thomas shrugged. “Like I said, we really haven't been on the Internet since Thursday,” he reminded her.

“And, before that, the relationship was supposed to be secret, so we couldn't really post anything about it,” Alex chimed in, reminding himself to start taking those photos as soon as possible, before someone asked …

“Well, do you have any with you now?” Sybil broke into his musing to ask, and he had to bite back a groan.

“Hang on a sec,” Thomas, dear Thomas, answered immediately as he fished his cell out of his pocket. “How's this?”

One of the cameras immediately zoomed in on the screen of Thomas' phone, and Alex could see on the monitor as it displayed a photo of himself and the Alpha, then swiped the screen to display another, similar photo. Alex recognized the tux he was wearing in both – those selfies were taken on the night that they had bonded.

“A bonding day memory,” Sybil all but cooed. “I hope that you two will get around to posting them on Twitter soon?”

Alex was frankly envious of just how well Thomas could turn on the charm when he wanted. “We'll get to it as soon as possible,” he promised.

“Thank you, Senator Jefferson – and thank you both, for agreeing to sit down and have this chat with us.”

“The pleasure was ours,” Alex assured her, as Thomas expressed a similar sentiment.

Sybil turned to the camera behind their backs and gave her closing remarks, and Thomas found his hand and squeezed it. Their first interview as a couple was officially a success.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw the thing with the shower on [OTP Prompts](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/), and couldn't resist. Kudos to them for the idea.
> 
> Sorry that this chapter and the last have been posted a little later than I like. I've had a family emergency come up (nothing bad or anything, just time-consuming) and haven't spent as much time in front of a keyboard these past few days as I would have liked.


	18. The Childhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where Alex opens up to Thomas about his childhood. Have tissues ready!

The pair returned back to Alex's apartments to find that a tornado had ravaged the place. Strewn all around the apartment were the guilty parties – Thomas' staff, packing up Alex's things neatly into boxes.

Thomas bit back his annoyance. This wouldn't end well. Sure enough, Alex was visibly trying to contain his anger. “I guess they got started early?” the Alpha tried to diffuse his mate's temper.

Surprisingly, it worked. Alex relaxed. “Whatever,” the omega said. “It was gonna have to happen, anyway. Just don't let them go through the papers on my desk; some of them contain classified information.”

Of course, that meant that Alex himself would have to do it. And the staff was still packing the rest. Which left Thomas without anything to do, in a home not his own.

It was only natural that his attention would eventually be drawn to the personal photos in frames that were being stacked on the bed to wrap and pack. They showed a personal side to a mate that he still didn't know very much about. There were the photos with friends, including one with James Madison – Thomas kept forgetting that they went to school together – and one with Aaron Burr. Photos of Alex with women, photos of him with men, some of obviously platonic relationships and others of not. One in particular showed Alex and another man sitting on a park bench practically in each other's laps, and with the other man's hand discreetly down Alex's pants. He caught the look that his mate shot him, which was when he realized that he was pressing his scent glands again.

Alex was obviously trying to appear annoyed and failing as he came over to see what had gotten the Alpha feeling aggressive. “That's me and Laf,” he explained. “Laf – Lafayette – was my nestmate until he moved back to France about a year ago.”

“Hmm,” Thomas responded, noncommittal, as he pretended not to notice Alex's amused grin. The Alpha picked up another photo, this one of two boys, one of which was obviously Alex as a child, and a woman. The background was a beautiful beach with stunning turquoise water.

Thomas gazed at the photo and thought. The woman was obviously Alex's mother, and the other boy – a brother? a cousin? Alex didn't like to talk about his past, except that he didn't want to go to the Caribbean. Thomas took one more look at those turquoise waves and asked, “Did your family vacation in the Caribbean often?”

Of any response Alex might give, he wasn't expecting a snort. “Vacation, right,” he replied, and Thomas remembered that Alex had come from a poor family. But even the impoverished could travel, couldn't they?

Thomas looked up. “Guys?” he addressed his staff. “Take twenty.” He reached into his back pocket for his wallet, and pulled out a $100 bill. “I'm pretty sure I saw a Starbucks down the road; go get y'allselves some coffee or whatever.”

Alex said nothing as the workers filed out, just stared at the photo. Even after they had the apartment to themselves, he said nothing.

Thomas let him be. He would talk when he was ready.

Finally, he sighed. “My mother was an omega,” he began. “In Saint Croix; that's in the American Virgin Islands. She bonded with an Alpha when she was young, but Mr. Lavien was a mean son of a bitch. One of those Alphas who think that they can do whatever they want with what's 'theirs'. My mom ran from him and got a place in town; but the Virgin Islands were practically a third world country back then, and there was a law on the books that said that if an Alpha's omegan mate was being unruly, they could have the omega jailed. No judge, no jury; Lavien just went downtown and said, 'my mate's being willful' and they sent a squad car to pick her up. She spent six months with the rats before Lavien came to collect her.”

“Jesus,” Thomas muttered under his breath.

Alex ignored the outburst. “When she got out,” he continued, “I think Mr. Lavien expected her to be a meek, docile, obedient omega. He was wrong. She played the part just long enough for him to turn his back, and then she ran.

“She ended up in Charleston, in Nevis. Again, these Caribbean islands were practically third world countries, and this was the 70s, so it's not like they could just send an email to verify her story. A few forged papers listing her as Rachel Faucette – her birth name – and she was good to go. She ended up nesting with another omega – James Hamilton, fourth son of a Scottish laird who had come to the Caribbean on a lark. They had two sons – my older brother, James Junior,” he indicated the other boy in the photo, “and me.”

Here he hesitated, as if trying to decide whether or not to confess something further. “I don't think that James is my father,” he finally admitted. “While Jimmy looks just like him, I don't. And … well, my mother and James were nestmates, not bonded. They weren't exclusive. And by the time I was born, conditions between them were … strained.”

He hesitated again. “James was – is, he's still living – the stereotypical omega. Flighty, unreliable, selfish. He stayed with my mother until I was ten, and then his Alphan father called him home to Scotland, and that was that. We never saw him again.”

He stopped there, and Thomas took the opportunity to pull him into his lap and wrap his arms around him. Alex went willingly enough, still looking at the photo.

“Jimmy was her Little Man,” he said softly, “but I was her Little Angel. She started working in a resort, in housekeeping, and for awhile it was wonderful. We lived on-site, in one of the 'staff cabins' and we all had to share a room, but it was okay. Sometimes, when things were tight, she'd bring a man back to the cabin and tell us to go down to the beach. We'd play in the surf until she came and got us.

“Jimmy and I went to a local school, the only place that would take the children of two unbonded omegas – if you think omegan pairs are frowned upon here and now, you should have seen Nevis in the 90s – and I'm not sure how that school remained accredited. I honestly believe that the local government knew that taking away their accreditation would mean that they'd have to open another school, and that would cost money. I mostly educated myself, collecting every book I could get my hands on and reading obsessively.” He then went into a long-winded rant about the importance of education and how it wasn't taken seriously enough in “this country”.

Thomas would have pointed out that they were talking about a school in Nevis, not the United States, but was too busy thinking about the expensive private school he himself had gone to. Besides, he could sense that the omega was actually stalling.

Alex finally ran out of words about the education system, and Thomas knew from the way he started to tense up that the next part was going to be bad. He took a moment to nuzzle the omega's scent gland behind his ear, and felt him loosen a bit.

“There was … a fever. I got it, probably from someone at school, but who really knows? My mom sent Jimmy to stay with a friend for a few days, so he wouldn't get it. There were no hospitals in Charleston, just clinics, and those were usually more dangerous than helpful, so she wrapped me up in our bed and cared for me herself. I don't remember much about the illness – I was delirious with fever – but I do remember realizing that somewhere along the line she had fallen ill, too.

“I don't think she realized just how sick she was. I certainly didn't. All I knew was that all of a sudden she was moving slowly and laying down a lot.

“When it happened, it was fast. She lay down and wrapped me in her arms and I went to sleep, and when I woke up she was … gone. Her body was like ice; I think it was the cold that woke me.”

He took a deep breath, and Thomas nuzzled him again. “Mr. Lavien's lawyers were there within hours. Mr. Lavien stood up in court and called Jimmy and I 'obscene children born in whoredom'. I guess the court agreed, because it was ruled that, since Mr. Lavien was still her legal mate, he would get everything. _Everything_. We, Jimmy and I, we kept our clothes, but that was it. He got our furniture, her jewelry, her clothes … my books. There was this little set of spoons she was so proud of, made of real silver; he got them.” He shifted, obviously uncomfortable. “Jimmy had to borrow money for shoes for the funeral. My uncle, James Lytton, brought me back my books when they went up for auction.” He paused a moment, and Thomas could sense the profound importance that such a simple thing had had. “That's all we got back, Jimmy and I. All we owned.”

“Oh, Darling,” Thomas cooed sympathetically.

“I'm not finished,” Alex replied, and the Alpha's heart sank. “Jimmy and I went to live with our cousin, James Lytton's son Peter. Peter, an omega, had a nestmate, Luke, and they had a kid. Cute kid. But Peter was … troubled. We only lived with him for about six months. I'm just glad that he waited until Jimmy, the kid, and I were at school to eat his gun.”

Thomas jerked as if physically struck, but Alex didn't even seem to notice. He was too caught up in his story.  “Peter's will provided for Luke and the kid, but not Jimmy and I. Mr. Lytton tried to help, but there was nothing he could do. Mr. Lytton himself died a few weeks later. We weren't in that will, either.”

Alex took a deep breath, and plunged back in. “Everyone on my mother's side was dead, and my father's side wasn't accepting calls, even from the court system. They were writing James' relationship with our mother off as a fling, and wanted nothing to do with the, ah,  _results_ of such a dalliance. So it was into foster care for Jimmy and I. Of course, very few foster families want to foster teen boys, much less  _two_ teen boys. So we got split up.

“Jimmy ended up with the McNobenys. Nice couple. I went to the Stevens, who treated me well.” He paused again. “I think Mr. Stevens was my biological father. His son, Edward – Ned – was only a year older than I, and we were inseparable. We also looked … well, here.” Alex pulled out his phone, opened the Facebook app, and scrolled through his friends until he found the profile he wanted. He showed Thomas the screen, who for a split second wondered why Alex was showing him a photo of himself until he saw the differences and realized that the man in the photo wasn't his mate. They could be brothers, easily. They could be _twins_. “Mr. Stevens owned a shipping company, and had me help him keep the books. It was my first introduction to finance, and I was exceedingly good at it.”

Suddenly, his mate was smiling fondly at a miraculously happy memory. “I  _ ruled _ at it. I could keep track of the exchange rates of any number of currencies in my head, and calculate them back and forth to within a few cents. I knew exactly what any number of items were worth in any number of places. I kept Mr. Steven's checkbook, as well as his company's, and I never dropped a number or misplaced a decimal point. It was boring at first, but once I got the hang of it, I enjoyed my duties. I enjoyed living with the Stevens.

“That lasted for … four years, I guess. Then, when I was seventeen, a hurricane came through and destroyed the entire town.”

“Of course it did,” Thomas muttered to himself – perhaps not quietly enough, because Alex shot him a look.

“Mr. Stevens could choose to rebuild in Nevis, or move and rebuild elsewhere. So we all moved to New York.” Alex leaned back into Thomas. “You know the rest – I was halfway through my bachelor's at Columbia when Britain invaded and the Second Revolutionary War started. I joined the Army, hoping to make a career of it; but the Army took one look at my scrawny omegan ass and sent me straight to a desk job. I ended up General Washington's secretary, then his Aide, and the rest is history.”

Thomas listened to the wrap-up in horror. The thought that one person had gone through all that – one person had gone through all that as a  _ child _ – or, at least, two children had … “What about Jimmy?” he asked.

“Oh, he stayed in Nevis,” Alex answered easily. “Good man. Went into carpentry. Married now. We keep in touch on Facebook.”

“Good,” Thomas replied, still in shock. “That's … that's good.”

“Hey,” Alex said, sensing Thomas' distress. “It's all history, okay? It's all ancient history. It sucked, it _fucking sucked,_ but it's over now and … I'm good, okay? I'm good.”

Thomas didn't call him out on the lie. Instead, he just held his mate, feeling him relax little by little, until his staff came back from coffee ten minutes late.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that modern-day Generals still have Aide-de-camps? And that they're even still called that?
> 
> With the sole exception of James Hamilton's family refusing to take his children in, everything that I've recorded happening pre-hurricane actually happened to Alexander Hamilton. Right down to Lavien calling him and his older brother James Jr. "obscene children" who had been born in "whoredom". Actually, I left some stuff out (like how Lavien eventually divorced Rachel, but she didn't reply to the summons because she suspected a trap and stayed safe on Nevis, and so Lavien got a divorce with the stipulation that he could remarry but that she never would be able to) because it was getting depressing enough as is.
> 
> What really amazes me about Alex's childhood is how much of the misery was born from HUMAN activity. No, no one could stop his mother from dying from fever (especially with 18th century medicine) but they could have stopped the courts from stripping those boys of everything they owned and giving it to Lavien, or allowing Rachel to remarry so she could marry James and make their boys legitimate, or (here's a thought) _NOT BEEN SO FUCKING HORRIBLE TO ILLEGITIMATE CHILDREN!!!_ *ahem* Rereading through Hamilton's early childhood, before everyone dies, it's just a case of "they couldn't do this, because they weren't allowed, because they were illegitimate". They weren't allowed to attend school with their peers, and it played a large part in the court denying them a share in their mother's estate. Mothering illegitimate children also got Rachel a burial plot in the middle of nowhere, because she couldn't be buried in the churchyard. Hamilton's childhood doesn't make me sad for him, like the first song in the play does; it makes me _fucking angry_.
> 
> Oh, and Peter's significant other wasn't a dude but a "black mistress" named Ledja. They had a son together, named Don Alvarez de Valesco because why not? James Jr. later described Peter as "insane". There's some confusion about whether Peter shot himself or stabbed himself, with some believing that he may have done both. That's dedication for you. I have no idea where the three boys were when he did this. I really, really, really hope that neither them nor Ledja was home.
> 
> The fever Rachel died from (and Alex almost did) was never specified. I cleaned it up, however, not mentioning the other side effects, some of which were brought on by the medicine they were given. The medicine (an enema, because of course it was) caused bloating and uncontrollable flatulence. Add that to the vomiting and diarrhea, and the occasional blood-letting; and you have a tapestry of human misery that I don't know you could improve on if you wanted to. Lin wasn't joking when he wrote that they were "sitting in their own sick, the scent thick." And Alex was almost certainly laying by his mother's side when she died.
> 
> Y'all have earned a cute break. [Here's a YouTube video of cats running afoul of water](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vP8RbfSgZtw). Sound is not necessary.


	19. The Phone Call

They were in the car on their way back to Thomas' apartment when Alex's phone rang. He looked at it and something about the exact way he winced told Thomas exactly who was on the other line.

“Mr. President,” he answered the call. Thomas gestured to Samuel, who complied by rolling up the privacy divider. For some reason, Alex saw the divider and shot Thomas a look.

“Mr. Secretary,” Washington's voice came over Alex's phone, just barely audible. “I believe we agreed that you and your new husband would stay out of D.C. until next Friday? I haven't looked at a calendar in a few hours, but I seem to remember it being Tuesday.”

“It is, sir,” Alex agreed, “but, in point of fact, we're not in D.C. sir; we're in Alexandria.”

Thomas was very careful not to laugh as Washington's only reply was silence for several seconds. Alex took the moment to put the phone on speaker, when it was obvious that Thomas was listening in anyway. “I'm going to pretend like you didn't just say that,” Washington finally stated. “I hope you won't be in _Alexandria_ for much longer?”

“No, sir,” Alex agreed. “We only came in for the interview in the first place. Now we're just moving some things around, and then we'll be headed back to Monticello.”

“Good, good,” came the reply. “Which brings me to my next point: why did you lie to me?”

Alex blinked, surprised, then looked to Thomas for clarification; but Thomas was just as confused as Alex was. “Lied when, sir?”

“You told me, specifically, that your relationship with Senator Jefferson was a false one, and that you were only continuing the ruse for the sake of your respective careers. Why?”

Both men were, if anything, even more confused by this explanation. “Because it was the truth?” Alex replied.

A beat of silence, then: “I've known you for eleven years, Alexander. In that time, I've become very familiar with your strengths and weaknesses. Deception is not one of them. For Christ's sake, during the war, you sent details about a highly classified mission in an unencrypted letter to an omega you were nesting with,  _before_ that mission took place.” Alex winced at the reminder. “Thomas can act, but you cannot. The emotion I just saw on that interview was real. I'd like to know why you led me to believe otherwise, Son.”

Thomas saw Alex wince again, and remembered that he didn't like Washington using that pet name. Then remembered the tale he had just heard, and it all came together. “Don't call him that,” Thomas demanded – not a Senator talking to the President, but an Alpha talking to someone threatening his mate. “He's not your son.”

Alex stared at him, shocked, and Thomas realized what he had just done – his outburst had undoubtedly given Washington even more “proof” that his little theory was correct. It was Thomas' turn to wince, then shoot Alex a look of apology. Alex, fortunately, still seemed to be having trouble figuring out how to respond to Washington's accusations, and hadn't noticed the implications of what Thomas had just done.

There was another beat of silence before Washington responded. “Duly noted,” he said, and did Thomas hear a hint of laughter in his voice? “Alexander, anything you would like to add?”

“About my parentage or your opinion on my acting abilities, sir?” Alex had caught up.

Washington muttered something about children under his breath, too low for the microphone in his phone to pick up. “Certain war-time propaganda aside, I think that we all are in agreement about the fact that you and I are not related by blood. Let's get back on track:  _why did you lie to me_ ?”

“ _I didn't_ ,” Alex insisted vehemently. “Sir, _there is nothing between Thomas and I_. We have gotten to know each other significantly better over the past several days, and have learned to tolerate one another and even respect one another, but _that's it_.”

Of course that was it. That was what the agreement had been. Why did that reminder hurt so much?

“Is that true, Senator?” Washington was asking.

Thomas licked his lips. “It's true, Mr. President,” he said simply.

More silence. “I see,” Washington mused. Another beat of silence, then, “The Senate and the Treasury Department have been rather quiet as of late. I believe it would be best if you two took an additional week off.” Both Thomas and Alex jumped up to protest, but Washington wasn't finished. “I believe the time will do you two some good. Also, it will help perpetuate the 'lie' of you two having genuine affection for one another.”

“But, sir!” Alex jumped in. “Tax season is coming up, and-”

“No buts!” Washington thundered. “Go spend the night in Thomas' home in _Alexandria_ , but if I see you within the _D.C. Area_ , you're fired.”

Alex's anger simmered below the surface, but he managed an, “understood, sir.” Thomas couldn't help but openly sneer at the threat. How  _dare_ he threaten Thomas' mate with something so dire! How  _dare_ he-

But Alex wasn't really his mate, was he? There was nothing between them. That's what Alex had said, and he was right. They weren't really mates. Abruptly, all his anger left him, and he sat back into the leather of the car's seats.

“Thomas?” Washington prompted.

“I wouldn't want to jeopardize the Secretary of the Treasury's job over something so trivial as a week,” he couldn't help but jab.

Washington sighed. “Very well,” he said. “I guess I'll see you gentlemen on the Monday after next.”

* * *

Something was wrong with Thomas. Alex could feel the tension in the air, and was thankful for the divider – and had that thing always been there? Why hadn't they used it before?!

“He won't really fire me,” he reassured the Alpha. “He just says that when he means business. It's his way of saying that he's serious. We could go flouncing into the Capitol building tomorrow, and completely get away with it, especially if we had a good reason. Even if we didn't, we'd probably just get a lecture. But he needs me – I'm the best person for the job, and he knows it.”

Thomas didn't stop his ramblings, just nodded when they were finished. “Good to know,” he said with a nod. But whatever it was, it was still wrong. So it hadn't been the threat of Alex being unemployed – especially after the embarrassing scene he had made the night before – that had Thomas upset.

They pulled up to the Alpha's townhouse – which was a townhouse only in the fact that it was attached to the homes on either side. The four-floor monstrosity looked like it belonged in a magazine. A brick façade and white windows gave it a federal-style look; the slate hipped roof, ornate cornices, 6-over-6 windows with beautifully arched transoms, and the black paneled front door framed by a white pediment and pilasters completed the look. It even had a chimney on either side. The small cypress trees flanking the porch as well as the boxwood hedge running along the front didn't dare show even a single branch that had grown too far unpruned. The brick sidewalk running in front of the house and its neighbors was wide enough for a car to drive on. Looking down the street, Alex could see that every single townhouse in the neighborhood was of the same style and general look – the only differences being some variation in the decorative elements around the windows and doors, and the wooden siding that every other house was covered in.

Alex thought of his own “studio” apartment and felt himself flush.

The omega felt a hand slip into his own. “It's your home too, you know,” Thomas said, a little sadly. “At least for the next few years.”

Alex frowned. His first thought was to protest the length of time – they had agreed on a single year, until the statues of the Omega Bonding Bill had passed – but then realized that it would look suspicious if they dissolved the bond as soon as they could, and that they would need to let it run on for at least two or three years to make the eventual decline look realistic.

His next thought was to wonder why that fact made Thomas sad. Was Thomas starting to regret their arrangement? Perhaps – the thought made him swallow dryly – perhaps Thomas hadn't realized just how damaged his new mate was. Perhaps Alex had driven him away, first with his poor-mouthing and then with his sob story. No one wanted to hear that sort of thing.

Five days into their marriage and he had already messed it up.

He realized with a start that Thomas was waiting for a response. He had to review the conversation they had just been having to remember what the Alpha wanted him to respond to. “It's a beautiful home,” he said, honestly.

The answer seemed to satisfy Thomas, who nodded and got out of the car. He held the door open for Alex – he was always doing little things like that for the omega, was it just the famed Southern hospitality? – then showed him to the front door. “I'll give you the tour,” Thomas said.

Unfortunately, the tour had to wait. A chime sounded from Alex's phone, and he recognized the Twitter app's notification sound – a feature he had reactivated since yesterday. He opened the app as Thomas escorted him inside, then whistled at what he was seeing.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, alarmed.

“It's your buddy Angelica,” Alex replied. “She's seen the interview, and now she's blowing up Twitter.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, a note about the United States' capital. Washington D.C. (short for District of Columbia) is actually a tiny little city with only 68.34 sq mi (177.0 sq km) of space, including water, and a population of 681,170. It's also SUPER EXPENSIVE to live there. So a lot of people -- from workers to politicians -- actually live in the suburbs around D.C. The Washington Metropolitan Area spans 1,084 sq mi (418.7 sq km) over 17 counties and 8 cities in three states and one district (so that no state would have 'home field advantage', the capital isn't part of any state but a district by itself), with a population of 6,097,684, making it the 6th largest metropolitan area in the country. So when Alex was like "technically we're not in D.C. we're in Alexandria" he was being a little shit. It's the adult version of the "I'm not touching you!" game.
> 
> The unencrypted letter with the details about a classified mission is a shout out to that one time Hamilton wrote, in detail, about the Battle of Yorktown. In his 22 August 1781 letter to "My Betsey", he informs her (while still in New York) that they are leaving soon, that they're going to Virginia, that they hope to catch General Cornwallis unprepared, and that the whole thing will be for nothing if Cornwallis returns to South Carolina by land. He then goes on to tell her in a postscript, "Don't mention I am going to Virginia".
> 
> Sorry about the architecture porn. Architecture is one of my great loves. In case you guys are wondering, inspiration for Thomas' townhouse came from [here](https://activerain-store.s3.amazonaws.com/image_store/uploads/3/0/8/5/0/ar135689054905803.jpg).
> 
> So, what does Angelica have to say on Twitter? Is it good or bad? What do you guys think?


	20. The Townhouse

Alex watched as Thomas pulled out his own phone and pulled up the Twitter app, then navigated to Angelica's page. Alex himself couldn't believe what he was seeing. The woman had gone on a Twitter rampage.

> **Angelica Schuyler-Church**  
>  @angschchu
> 
> Just saw @columbiastar's interview with @jeffersen and @ahamilton. They're so cute! #thalex #cuties #coupleoftheyear #getaroomyoutwo
> 
> **Angelica Schuyler-Church**  
>  @angschchu
> 
> It's so beautiful when your friends find true love! #thalex #coupleoftheyear

> **Angelica Schuyler-Church**  
>  @angschchu
> 
> @kungfucasanova: No, I'm sorry, I can't give you @ahamilton's phone number.

> **Angelica Schuyler-Church**  
>  @angschchu
> 
> It was obvious at @madjemmy's #winterholidayball that @jeffersen and @ahamilton were a couple – they were all over each other! #thalex #cuties

> **Angelica Schuyler-Church**  
>  @angschchu
> 
> @correctkate: The #winterholidayball was beautiful! @madjemmy really outdid himself, as he does each year. ;P #beautiful #partyon!

> **Angelica Schuyler-Church**  
>  @angschchu
> 
> @fangurrl: Sorry, I can't give you @ahamilton or @jeffersen's phone number. #privacyplz

“I don't understand,” Alex admitted. “Why is she doing this?”

“I don't know,” Thomas replied, although he seemed oddly glad about the situation. Suddenly, Thomas' phone dinged. He pulled it out, and whatever was on the screen made him grin widely. Seeing Alex's dumbfounded look, he turned it around to show the omega.

> _**From: Angelica**  
>  Sorry I was a jerk Sunday. Hope this makes up for it! :)_

“She did it,” Thomas muttered, in awe. “The son of a … she did it.”

“Did what?” Alex was trying not to panic.

“No, nothing bad!” Thomas insisted. “Look, look!” He pointed at the “obvious they were a couple” tweet. “The Schuylers are the most influential family in politics right now – the Kennedys of the 21st century. A Schuyler said that we were obviously a couple at the Ball. Other attendees are going to be falling over themselves to agree – to get notice from a Schuyler, to brag to others that they were important enough to be on the guest list. I wouldn't be surprised if we see tweets along the 'they were such a cute couple' line from people who weren't even there, trying to pretend that they were. Anyone questions our relationship ever again, the entire District is going to be falling over each other to ridicule them.” He looked back at his phone. “Three tweets, and she's made us bulletproof.”

It took a moment for it to register, the fact that they were out of the woods. When it did, he sagged in relief. “We did it,” he whispered in awe, then went in for a celebratory kiss.

“ _Angelica_ did it,” Thomas corrected lightly, sidestepping the attempt. “Would you like to see the house now?”

Would he like to see … ? “Okay,” Alex answered, confused again.

* * *

If Monticello was historical, then the Alexandria townhouse was modern and chic. Except for the occasional accent wall, the place was done entirely in shades of taupe and white trim, with dark wood floors. The furniture was stylish and upscale, tending to shades of cream for the upholstery and dark, almost black for the wood. It lent the entire place a sophisticated, muted black and white theme that would have been dull if not for the pops of color here and there – bright artwork, colorful pillows, accent walls wallpapered in interesting patterns.

The effect was rich – both in elegance and in the probable price tag – without being too gauche. It also was a bit overwhelming. Even as he marveled at just how beautiful the overall effect was, Alex was more than aware that the overstuffed couch set in the entertainment room probably cost more than Alex's entire apartment did.

Thomas watched him look around with such a mournful expression on his face, Alex didn't know what to do. He couldn't go back and change everything he had revealed, the things about himself he had bared to Thomas – things he hadn't bared to anyone else, some of them – but he could help them move forward. He could remind Thomas that he was the same man who had been keeping him company for these past five days of exile in Monticello.

At the very least, he could try.

Dinner was cooked by one of Thomas' many nameless staff, steak of a cut that Alex didn't know the name for, seasoned to perfection and served with asparagus spears and garlic mashed potatoes. The meal would have been incredibly pleasant, if not for the fact that the silence was so thick as to be oppressive. Several times Alex attempted to start conversation, but was rebuffed when Thomas replied with monosyllabic answers that usually meant absolutely nothing meaningful. It was almost like Thomas wasn't even trying, like he was doing the opposite of trying – like he was attempting to push Alex away.

It was about halfway through the lime sorbet that Alex decided he was having none of it. That they were stuck with each other for however-many-more years, and he wasn't going to spend those years being the bitter old couple who slept in different parts of the house and never spoke to one another except for the occasional grunt of greeting or disgust. He had had enough of Thomas' behavior; and what's more, he had an idea.

After their sorbet dishes were cleared, Thomas seemed at a loss of what to do next. That was okay; Alex knew exactly what their next activity was going to be. Standing, he kissed Thomas on the forehead – a gesture the Alpha graciously allowed – and started towards the staircase. “Wait for me to text you, then come upstairs to the bedroom,” he commanded, then left before Thomas could refuse.

Upstairs, he dug through the various boxes and luggage that had been brought over from his apartment until he found what he was looking for – a pink bag with the words “Derriere de Soie” written on the side in a loopy font. Smiling, the omega began to undress.

* * *

Thomas waited in the dining room, both anticipating and dreading that text. What in the world was the omega up to? He had no idea; and, if he was honest with himself, that terrified him a little. He opened up the Candy Crush app, but was too distracted and discombobulated by the many ups and downs of the day to do much more than lose life after life, so he closed the game and busied himself opening and closing app after app, trying to find something to calm his racing mind, until eventually his time ran out and he got the anticipated (dreaded?) text.

> _**From: Alex <3  
>  ** Come on up! ;P _

The Alpha had no idea what to expect when he opened the door. Even then, the sight that greeted him shocked him speechless.

Alex was kneeling on the bed, hands by his sides, pose and expression supposed to be sensual but Thomas didn't miss the way he bit his lip with anxiety. Thomas understood. The omega was dressed in a corset of all things, lacy and frilly and so amazingly sexy. A matching ribbon was wrapped around the man's neck. Built in garters held up the matching stockings, complete with the most adorable little bows at the top. However, Thomas decided that the best part was that, other than the black lace accents, the entire ensemble was in the most vivid shade of purple.

No, he decided, that wasn't the best part. The best part was that Alex wasn't wearing anything underneath the corset. Which meant that, from just below the navel to the top of the stockings, the omega was completely bare to Thomas' eyes.

A wave of arousal, of _want_ , so powerful as to be almost overwhelming, washed over him. He wanted to walk over and fuck the omega into the mattress. He wanted to nail him to the wall. He wanted to drill that man all the way to China. He wanted to-

“Are you sure?” he asked instead.

However Alex expected Thomas to respond, this obviously wasn't it. “Am I sure of what?” he retorted.

“Are you sure you want me to … to accept your invitation?”

“Of course I do!” Alex huffed indignantly. “For fuck's sake, Thomas, it's rather obvious just how into this I am right now.” He gestured to his exposed cock, which had begun to harden.

“I just … didn't know. Because, we're not really mates and all.”

Once again, Alex looked shocked. “Why aren't we really mates?” he asked.

“Well, it's like you told Washington.” Was that really just today? “It's all … a sham, a lie. Our relationship. It's not real.”

Alex blinked. “Is that why you've become so distant all of a sudden?” he demanded. “I thought that you were disgusted by something ...” the omega suddenly turned shy, and wouldn't meet Thomas' eyes, “... something that I shared with you. You know, this morning and last night.”

It was Thomas' turn to blink in surprise. “Of course not!” he blurted out. “Why would that disgust me? Why would anything that you've shared with me disgust me? All you've told me is that you've led a horribly difficult life, and somehow rose above it to become one of the most powerful people of any endotype in this country.”

“I thought you were trying to push me away!”

“I thought _you_ were trying to push _me_ away!”

“Clearly I'm not.” Once again, Alex gestured to his outfit.

“Hmm, yes, we'll need to do something about that,” Thomas agreed happily. “So … we're good?”

Alex all but beamed at him in relief. “We're good.”

“Good.” Thomas looked Alex up and down again, slowly, savoring the view. Alex let him drink in his fill. “Three,” Thomas suddenly announced. “Yes, I believe three will do it.”

“Three what?” Alex asked, nervously licking his lips.

Thomas crossed the room in two long strides, earning him an “ _eep!”_ of surprise from the omega. “Three orgasms,” he muttered in his ear, reaching between them to grasp the shaft of Alex' bare dick. He had no idea whether the gasp was due to his words or his touch. “I'm going to make you come three times tonight.” And he began to pump.

Alex rewarded him by laying back on the bed, spreading his legs wide, opening himself up for Thomas to do with as he pleased. Thomas watched the heat rise in his eyes as he stroked the omega's dick, then watched him throw himself back in ecstasy when the Alpha slipped two curved fingers into his hole to brush against his prostrate. Again and again he stroked, pumping with his fingers to the same rhythm, watching as the omega came completely undone. “Yes!” he cried. “Yes, yes please! Please! Again! Harder! Harder! Har- oooooooh.” He spent himself, then sunk back into the bed.

“That's one,” Thomas announced happily, but didn't stop his ministrations. Alex whimpered as his dick hardened all over again in Thomas' hand, just on the wrong side of overstimulated. Thomas didn't let up, however, and soon Alex was back to begging for Thomas' touch.

So, of course, Thomas stopped. Alex had just enough time to protest in indignation before Thomas reached down and captured the omega's abused dick with his mouth.

Thomas wasn't as skilled at giving oral pleasure as his mate was, but that didn't mean that he didn't know what he was doing. He licked along the shaft, swallowing it down until he felt the tip of the cock at the back of his throat, and curled his tongue up underneath the cock. That was all it took for the already-hard omega to come in his mouth.

He carefully swallowed the mouthful, around the dick still in his mouth, and Alex sobbed at the overstimulation. “That's two,” he announced, before flipping Alex over to get to the prize he had been waiting to plunder this entire time – that perky little ass.

He pried the cheeks apart, then bent down to blow gently on the red hole. Alex shrieked at the sensation, making Thomas grin. “Ass in the air, Princess,” he commanded, helping Alex get his knees underneath him.

Again, he pulled open the cheeks, but this time to lick around the hole. Alex began to sob. “Too much!” he wailed. “Too much! Thomas, please!”

Thomas' head cleared enough for him to grow alarmed. Without a word, he immediately released his mate.

“What are you doing?!” Alex now demanded. “Don't stop! Don't stop!”

With a huff of laughter, Thomas propped himself up until he was kneeling behind that precious ass, and unzipped his jeans. By now, it was a simple thing to slide right into his mate's hole, causing the omega to wail again.

Thomas began to move, drawing himself out to slide back in, then reached around to wrap a hand around Alex's dick again. Alex wailed at the hand around his raw member and began to sob again, but didn't say a word of complaint as Thomas pumped the cock in time with his thrusts. The sobbing continued as Thomas picked the speed up, faster and harder. “Yes, please! Please, Alpha, please!” he howled. “Please, Alpha, please, _Thomas_!” For the last time, the omega spilled himself.

“That's three,” Thomas gasped as he, himself, came.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could so totally see Angelica being the type to abuse hashtags on Twitter.
> 
> I do hope that everyone enjoyed the makeup sex! And the contents of the lingerie bag!


	21. The Awkward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things aren't quite back to normal. Both of our boys are trying, though!

The two woke up the next morning and immediately started getting ready to leave the city. They washed in another beautiful shower large enough for three people, which was rather fortunate when Alex got on his knees for Thomas. Thomas reciprocated with another handjob, and it was only the water threatening to go cold that reminded the pair that they had things to do that didn't involve sex.

Alex riffled through the mess of boxes and bags that were his clothes before settling on his favorite ratty “Coca-Cola” tee and a pair of holey jeans, the perfect comfy clothes. He turned around to find Thomas – in another expensive sweater and pair of designer jeans, of course – side-eyeing the outfit. “Is that really what you're wearing? In public?” The Alpha kept the question light.

The omega looked down at himself and attempted a smile. “Yup,” he said casually, but his insides were roiling.

“I – okay,” Thomas concluded, obviously attempting to seem as non-judgmental as possible, and obviously failing.

Alex frowned. “They're my favorite clothes,” he defended himself. “I've had them since college!”

“I'm just worried about how others will see you,” Thomas insisted, then snapped his mouth shut as he realized his mistake. But the damage had already been done.

“How others will see me?” Alex demanded. “Honestly? I don't care. _I_ know that I can afford better ones. For fuck's sake, Thomas, I'm not that poor! I live frugally, but I still take pride in my appearance!”

Thomas opened his mouth to say something, visibly thought better of it, and tried again. “I just want what's best for my mate,” he insisted.

“ _Mate_ , Thomas,” Alex reminded him. “ _Mate_ , not _child_ or _ward_. They're my favorites because they're well-worn and comfortable, and I like the bright red of the tee. The faded silkscreen look is a style, you know; just because it got that way honestly, via being _that old_ , doesn't make it any less valuable then a shirt that was purposefully manufactured that way!”

“Okay, okay, Alex,” Thomas said, putting his hands up. “I didn't even mean it from a financial standpoint. I just don't want people thinking that you're just part of the 'sloppy' omega stereotype.”

Maybe he did. Maybe he was telling the truth. “Alright,” Alex said, trying to back down himself. “Look; I'll put on jeans that don't have holes, but I'm keeping the tee.”

“No, it's fine!” Thomas insisted. “The holey jeans are … fine, they're just fine.”

Alex changed anyway. Thomas came over and Alex allowed him to wrap his arms around him and kiss on his neck. It didn't seem to help; the mood of the morning had soured.

* * *

After a brief breakfast downstairs – cereal and fruit, of course – they headed back south to Charlottesville. Thomas didn't wait until they got onto the interstate to pull Alex into his lap this time, non-tinted windows be damned. Alex made no protest as he buckled them in together, and only gasped when his hand darted down the front of his jeans to massage his dick through the boxer briefs. “Don't you want to put up the privacy divider?” he whispered to Thomas.

Thomas laughed in response. “Don't want Samuel to see just how much of a slut you are for me?” he growled in his ear, then thought different of it. After finding out about Alex's childhood, perhaps words like 'slut' and 'whore' weren't the best ideas. But Alex just moaned and put his hands behind Thomas' shoulders, giving Thomas full control to do as he pleased. And what he pleased was to pull the omega's dick out of his jeans and begin to stroke.

Still, Alex was respectful enough not to vocalize as much as he usually did as Thomas stroked him to completion. The occasional low moan when he just couldn't help it, and a breathy “Thomas!” when he came into a tissue, were the only sounds he made the entire time.

Neither Thomas nor Alex made a move to put Alex to rights, allowing Alex's cock to hang out of his jeans – a position they rethought when a passing tractor trailer honked and flashed the pair a thumbs-up. Thomas blushed and gently reclothed his mate's cock while Alex laughed. “You know, you can't just sex your way out of every argument we have,” the omega pointed out.

“You're right,” Thomas agreed. “But I can always buy something next time.”

It was a risk, one that Thomas knew had paid off when Alex burst out laughing again.

* * *

Monticello was just as they left it. Almost. The sky was so overcast that early afternoon looked like dusk, and thick snowflakes swirled around the car as they pulled up the drive. A major winter storm was forecasted to hover over the area for the next several days, but the surface temperature wasn't low enough for the snow to stick. However, it  _ was _ low enough for Alex to be glad for the roaring fire in every fireplace as they walked into the entrance hall.

“I have a question,” Alex said, “something that I've wondered since Friday.” Thomas raised an eyebrow in invitation, so Alex continued. “What is up with this green floor?”

Thomas chuckled. “It's to give the room a feeling of the outdoors, like you're walking on grass.”

To be honest, that raised more questions than it answered. “Why?” Alex settled on.

“I have no idea,” Thomas admitted. “But it's been that way since my ancestor, the first Thomas Jefferson, built this place. Far be it for me to mess with tradition.”

Alex nodded in understanding, and let the matter go. Instead, he did something that he had been wanting to do but had never gotten around to – studying the artifacts and taxidermied animals scattered around the room. Framed maps of various parts of the continent and Native artifacts from a number of different tribes dominated the lower part of the two-story room, while antlers from a number of deer species and a taxidermied bison head were on display above them. Above it all sat a clock, just above the door, with an interesting system of weights to either side.

“My ancestor was quite the inventor,” he said. “This is one of his curiosities that never really went anywhere – the hands of the clock pull up on the weights, so you can also see the day of the week.”

“It's also very loud when it chimes,” Alex pointed out, being well acquainted with that particular feature.

“Yes, it is.” Thomas agreed. “Thomas the First received a lot of visitors to his home – and, remember, no one really knew much about this new continent – so he liked to give them interesting and educational things to look at while they waited for him to greet them.”

“Did he greet everybody?” Alex asked, intrigued.

Thomas blushed. “All Alphas, most betas, omegas only if they were accompanied by an escort,” he admitted. “So that their reputation and his couldn't be soiled. It was a different time.”

Alex snorted but said nothing. He was sleeping with the man's descendant, after all.

“Are you hungry?” Thomas asked suddenly. “Abraham has lunch ready for us in the dining room.”

* * *

“So,” Thomas started, after the lunch dishes had been cleared up. “Where do you want to celebrate New Year's, here or in town?”

Alex blinked, taken aback. Thomas wasn't surprised. Not working, it had been easy to lose track of the days. “In town,” the omega finally answered.

Thomas nodded. A party might be just the thing for the both of them. “The Downtown Mall always does First Night Virginia, which has various events and performances. Only problem is – it's family friendly. No booze.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Is it worth it?” he asked.

“Yes?” Thomas hedged. “Although I'm hesitant to celebrate anywhere that's gonna have a bunch of kids around, especially for our first New Year's party. If I want to suck a hickey into my new mate's neck or put my hand down his pants, I don't want to worry about scarring someone's kindergartner for life.”

Alex snorted at that, although Thomas noted the sudden arousal darkening the omega's cheeks and changing his scent. “What else?” he asked, pretending not to notice the physical reaction.

It wasn't lost on Thomas, however. Perhaps his mate was a bit of an exhibitionist? It might be something to explore tonight. “Just how crazy are you willing to get?” he asked.

“Do you have something in mind?” the omega retorted.

Thomas grinned. “The NuitGénéreuse Society's Masquerade Ball,” he suggested. “A black tie masquerade that can get a little … risqué. No one openly fucking or anything, but … well, for example, the servers are all covered head to toe in golden body paint and clothed in a mask and nothing else. They're completely nude from the chin down. The name 'NuitGénéreuse Society' comes from the fact that all proceeds go to a local charity.”

Alex's blush deepened, but he seemed intrigued. “The sort of place that you can suck a hickey into my neck without fear of reprisal?” he suggested.

Thomas grinned. “The sort of place where I can do a lot more than that, yes. Basically, a bunch of assholes having a good time.”

Alex didn't have to consider for long. “Sounds like fun,” he said. “I'm in.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex is still a little paranoid that Thomas looks at him and sees something in between "charity case" and " _Pretty Woman_ without the threat of STDs". Thomas is still a little paranoid that Alex is just making the best of a bad situation.
> 
> Thomas Jefferson did, indeed, paint the wooden floors of his entrance hall green to make it feel like an extension of the outdoors. Jefferson was all about nature, remember. He also had a metric ton of visitors coming and going at any given time. There were times when all twelve bedrooms were filled by as many as fifty overnight guests. James and Dolley Madison came so often that the bedroom they always stayed at was nicknamed "the Madison Room". At times, there were so many people at Monticello that shy Jefferson designed and built a _second home_ , called Poplar Forest, _just so that he could retreat and stay there instead_. That's hospitality for you. Or just not being able to say 'no'.
> 
> His entrance hall was also a makeshift museum, so that guests could educate themselves while they waited to be received. Not everyone was, but everyone at least was guaranteed some time to see this room. It contained a ton of Native artifacts, both brought back by Lewis and Clark (two men Jefferson commissioned to lead an expedition to explore North America all the way to the Pacific Ocean after the purchase of the Louisiana Territory) and given by Native chiefs who would take Lewis and Clark up on their invitation to visit Jefferson. 
> 
> First Night Virginia is a real thing, and it is really huge. The NuitGénéreuse Society is not real. I haven't decided just how risqué I want the masquerade to be, but I don't want to attach it to any real organization. 
> 
> This fic is going to be winding down soon! We only have the rest of Wednesday and Thursday to go!


	22. The Masquerade

Fortunately, Abraham had taken Alex's tux that he wore to That Christmas Party a week ago and had it dry-cleaned, else Alex would have been up a certain creek where even money couldn't have gotten him a paddle. Tailors could only work so fast, after all. But as he had it, and as it was clean, he resigned himself to wearing it for another night.

He was just tying the navy bowtie when Thomas came into the bedroom and saw his ensemble. Without a word, the man disappeared in his closet for a minute and came out with a different bowtie, a silk jacquard tie with a raised paisley pattern, in a surprisingly tasteful shade of purple. Thomas approached Alex, who nodded in acceptance. He'd allow the Alpha this small claim.

Amusingly enough, Thomas himself put on a standard tie and waistcoat of the exact same material.

The standard masquerade mask covered the eyes from above the brow to the top of the cheeks, and were held in place by scented ear hooks that also wrapped around the back of the ear to cover the scent glands there, thereby obscuring both a person's appearance and their scent. In theory. In practice it did just about as good of a job at both; that is, not very well. But that was part of the magic of a masquerade – everyone went in _pretending_ that no one there knew who they were, and that they themselves knew the identity of no one there. The _pretending_ was enough.

Both Thomas' and Alex's masks were done in shades of purple and gold, but that's where the similarities ended. Thomas' mask featured a plume of golden feathers that shot from right between the eyes, framing his hair and fastened to the mask by a large jewel. Alex's featured a smaller plume of feathers at the right temple, and a line of tassels that ran the entire bottom edge of the mask. While Thomas' mask was peacock-like, brash, Alex's mask was almost feminine. He found that he didn't hate it.

As they entered the lounge and turned the corner to the ballroom, two servers stood flanking the entrance, a man and a woman. Both were completely covered in shimmering gold body paint, from head to toe, even their hair, giving the appearance of statues brought to life. To continue the look, both were completely devoid of body hair below the chin. Both wore black-and-gold masks and nothing else. Neither server seemed particularly upset about this fact as they handed champagne flutes to guests entering the ballroom.

Alex swallowed hard. Both servers were omegas, of course, and both were incredibly attractive. This might be an interesting night.

Thomas saw Alex looking, and leaned over to nip him behind the jaw, as close to the sensitive scent gland as he could get with the mask on. The message of was clear – you're mine. It was a message Alex knew and agreed with, but it didn't stop him from smirking up at the Alpha. It was entirely too early in the evening for displays of jealousy. Thomas rolled his eyes behind his own mask and nipped the omega's neck again.

The majority of the lounge had been set up as a dance floor, with a full orchestra set up in the corner. Although they too were covered in gold body paint, the musicians got to keep their clothes on. Instead, they wore tuxedos and ball gowns in the same shimmering gold, keeping the illusion of living statues intact.

If the servers were dressed provocatively in nothing, some of the guests were dressed almost as provocatively in tuxes and gowns that cost significantly more. Gowns with slits all the way up the side or backs that dipped to the thighs to expose the buttocks; tuxes with trousers that were tight enough to see the wearer's cock outlined against the material or with no shirt or waistcoat under the jacket. One man Alex saw had the crotch of his trousers removed completely and replaced with a mesh panel instead, leaving his dick almost completely visible.

These people might not be fucking on the dance floor, Alex knew, but they certainly were fucking  _somewhere_ . The heavy scents of sex and arousal permeated the air.

“Would you like to dance first, or mingle?” Thomas asked Alex graciously.

“Dance,” Alex replied, still trying to take it all in. He was no prude, but this was significantly more than he was used to. He wondered vaguely if Thomas had brought him to a masquerade gala or a sex club.

Thomas, sensing his unease, led him past the open bar and the food spread out, past the elegantly-laid tables and hoards of people chatting. Alex wondered vaguely how the woman wearing the open-ass gown was going to keep her bottom from getting cold on the leather chairs, and how well the staff planned on sanitizing them afterward.

The band was playing a waltz, which Lafayette had insisted Alex become familiar with years ago. Alex was a good dancer, really he was, but Lafayette wasn't and so would always insist on Alex leading. It caused a few mishaps until Alex got the hang of the dance from the other side.

Thomas found this anecdote amusing, and was patient with Alex through dance after dance as he unlearned old habits and relearned new ones.

Eventually, however, both Alpha and omega were out of breath. “Buffet?” Alex suggested.

“Buffet,” Thomas agreed, offering his arm.

Alex rolled his eyes at the histrionics, but took the arm anyway.

* * *

The food was superb, of course, but Thomas wasn't worried about that. Instead, his focus was entirely on his mate, and making sure the man had a good time.

Also, as an added bonus, that the man maybe gain some weight. It bothered Thomas, sometimes, just how present Alex's ribs were. To that end, for every food item that Alex placed on his plate, Thomas added more. Again, Alex rolled his eyes but said nothing.

They sat, and ate, and chatted, and watched the evening stretch onward.

* * *

It eventually happened that Alex got up to make his way over to the bar, and Thomas didn't follow. He felt the Alpha watching him, felt the eyes boring into his back. Just to tease, he put a little sway in his hips as he walked away.

Unfortunately, Thomas wasn't the only Alpha who had seen his little show. While he waited for the bartender to finish his drink, an Alpha who smelled like this wasn't his first trip to the bar slid into the seat beside him. “Here alone?” the man asked him.

Alex gave the man the benefit of the doubt. “Here with my mate,” he corrected.

“Well, your mate isn't here now, is he?” the man persisted.

“Look, friend, I'm in a committed pair-bond.” He showed the man his ring. “Not looking for a lay, just looking for a White Russian.”

“Well, I'm not Russian, but I am white,” the Alpha stated with a wink.

“Ha, ha, ha ha ha, ha, ha,” Alex fake-laughed sarcastically. “You're good. Seriously, you should go do comedy. Maybe go work on your first set now?”

The Alpha rolled his eyes. “No need to be a little bitch about it,” he muttered.

“Okay,” Alex responded cheerfully. “This is me.” He took the cocktail and walked back to the table. Then had to smile at the look Thomas was shooting the other Alpha. Fuck, those little jealous streaks of his mate's were adorable.

“Making friends?” Thomas asked, with a bit of bite to the words. Instead of letting Alex sit at the chair he had been in before, Thomas pulled the omega into his lap. Then proceeded to nip at his neck again, all the while maintaining eye contact with something in the general direction of the bar.

“Thomas, man, come on,” Alex insisted, having to do some quick thinking to keep his drink from sloshing in the glass. “Put the hormones away; you're gonna start someone, in a group of all these drunk Alphas. It's cool, nothing happened.”

“Fine,” Thomas admitted, settling back in the chair, even if he didn't look completely happy about it. Then proceeded to move onto the next, most fun, stage of his jealous fits – reclaiming what was his. “Wanna go find an empty spot to fool around?”

“ 'Fool around'?” Alex teased. “What is this, high school?”

“You're right,” Thomas agreed, with a sudden mischievous look on his face. Before Alex could question what that look was for, Thomas had his hand down the front of Alex's trousers.

“Thomas!” Alex gasped.

“Yes?” Thomas smirked.

Alex's face heated with shame as his dick hardened at Thomas' hand. Shame, and arousal. “We're in public,” he hissed while he still could.

“Sort of,” Thomas agreed, fingering the space underneath Alex's balls.

“We should – oh! – we shouldn't do this where – oh! – where others can see.” Alex was quickly losing the ability to formulate complete sentences.

“So tell me to stop,” Thomas challenged, flicking his fingernail oh-so-lighly over the sensitive skin of Alex's shaft.

Alex took a moment to look around. Although they certainly had attracted the attention of some of their neighbors, no one seemed to mind. And, truth be told, it wasn't the first time that evening he had seen couples be intimate together discreetly.

The omega made a decision. “Don't you dare,” he hissed, leaning back to allow easier access.

Thomas grinned wickedly at the backhanded permission, wrapping his hand around Alex's dick and beginning to stroke in earnest. For the most part, Alex kept his noises of pleasure breathy and light, so as to not disturb their neighbors. But when he finally came in Thomas' hands, he couldn't stop a bit of a shaky moan, almost a chitter, from escaping his lips.

Thomas discreetly cleaned the mess from his hands into a handkerchief. “Take a bow, Princess,” he hissed in Alex's ear, and Alex felt his face heat up again.

* * *

The main event of the evening was rapidly approaching. Thomas kept his mate in his lap, accepted another champagne flute from a server, and sat back to watch as the Master of Ceremonies led the crowd in the countdown.

“Five!” he insisted.

“Four!” his guests joined in.

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

Thomas quickly captured his mate's lips, opening his mouth, feeling Alex yield beneath him and slotting their mouths together for the traditional kiss.

“ _Happy New Year!_ ”

Suddenly, the entire room was awash with confetti, raining from the sky while the orchestra broke into a rendition of _Auld Lang Syne_. Thomas watched the pieces of paper flutter, catching the light, framing his beautiful mate in a moment so perfect it made his heart soar.

Alex must have felt the magic, too. He pulled away, eyes still closed, cheeks still adorably flushed, and sighed. “I love you,” the omega declared dreamily.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told y'all Alex was an exhibitionist. ;)
> 
> Did he mean that "I love you" at the end, or was it just the mood getting to him? Will Thomas reciprocate or panic? What do you guys think?


	23. The Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a wee bit kinkier than the rest. You've been warned.

When asked later, Alex would insist that he didn't know why he said it. He had just opened his mouth, and those words – I love you – had poured out of their own volition. All he knew was that, when his eyes flew open, Thomas was looking down at him, hair and face ringed in light like a halo and confetti falling all around him, with a look of utter horror on his face.

“I'm sorry, I ... I shouldn't have ... sorry.” Alex tried to get off of Thomas' lap, but Thomas didn't relinquish his hold on the smaller man.

“What did you say?” the Alpha demanded.

And, damn it, Alex found that he meant it, every syllable and letter of those three words. He locked eyes with his mate, letting him see the sincerity. “I love you.”

* * *

Maybe it had just been the moment. Maybe it had been a mistake. Maybe it was all the alcohol the omega had has that night. Maybe he was just continuing the ruse in public.

Maybe Thomas had heard wrong.

“What did you say?” he asked the omega.

And Alex looked up at him, liquid doe eyes showing Thomas an eternity of bliss, and said it again. “I love you.”

There really was only one response to that. Thomas leaned down and captured Alex's lips with his own, passionately trying to consume the omega the way that Alex had already consumed his heart. Then Alex was kissing him back, just as passionately, and Thomas felt his future blossom.

They only stopped for breath. “I love you, too,” Thomas confessed.

Alex lit up like Christmas morning. “I figured,” he deadpanned while trying to fight a smile, and Thomas chuckled.

They sat like that for a moment, just enjoying each other's company, watching the band play and a few more couples venture out onto the dance floor. There would be time later to talk about their feelings, and what those feelings meant for their future. But when Alex shifted on his lap and he felt himself starting to harden, he knew that there was something else to do first.

“There's only one question,” Thomas whispered. “Where do you want to be fucked first for the new year?” Alex giggled, actually _giggled_. “At home on the bed, in a hotel room, in the backseat of the car, or in a hallway where anybody might stumble upon us?”

The sudden heat on Alex's face – and in his eyes – answered the question for Thomas, who stood and offered Alex his hand.

* * *

The purpose for this hallway seemed to be for people to fuck in. There was no other way to put it. Alex wouldn't even say that the purpose was to seek some privacy to fuck in, as the hallway was already occupied by multiple couples.

They passed an Alpha female with her skirts up riding an omega male, an almost completely naked pair of male Alphas, a completely nude beta male with his completely clothed beta female, and a puppy pile of nude omegas. Most obscenely of all, there was an Alpha male bottoming for an omega. Alex saw Thomas actually blush at the sight.

Nor were the couples _in flagrante_ the only people in the hallway. Some, it seemed, had simply come to watch. Most singles watched quietly, but here and there a hand had been shoved down the front of trousers or up a skirt.

Someone might be pleasuring themselves to the sight of Alex in a few minutes. The thought made the omega flush again, but also tingle with the beginnings of arousal.

Thomas found a spot and suddenly pushed Alex into the wall, then covered his body with his own. “Are you sure you're okay with this?” Thomas whispered in his ear, between kisses on his scent gland, so as not to embarrass the man with a public discussion about consent.

Alex hummed his agreement, a sound that turned breathy as Thomas nipped suddenly.

“Last chance to back out,” Thomas whispered again. “We can just make out for awhile. Because, Princess, I intend on showing you off.”

Alex shivered in delight at the thought. Instead of saying anything, he untied his bowtie and unbuttoned his collar to allow Thomas access to his entire neck.

“Alright,” Thomas said, taking a step back.

To Alex's surprise, instead of going for his belt and trousers, Thomas removed his jacket and bowtie and hung them from a nearby sconce. He then started unbuttoning Alex's shirt. Alex, realizing that Thomas had meant it when he said that he wanted to show the omega off, enjoyed the heady sensation of what was to come before kicking off his shoes and socks.

The shirt joined the jacket, then the belt joined the shirt, then the trousers joined the rest, and Alex was standing there in his underwear. He heard Thomas suddenly have problems breathing as a couple of spectators craned their heads to see what had happened and muttered their appreciation.

Instead of his normal boxer briefs, Alex had dressed in a pair of purple lacy silk underwear that could honestly only be called panties. The front of the garment tried very hard to contain a load much larger than it was designed to handle. Tried, and failed; the tip of Alex's dick peeked out from around the elastic. Thomas looked at those panties like a man who's just found religion, a look of almost awe on his face, and a little more of Alex's dick broke free from its silk prison.

“It matches the corset,” Alex announced, quite pleased with himself. “Do you remember the corset?”

Thomas swallowed dryly. “I remember the corset,” he rumbled huskily.

A female spectator gasped in delight at the thought of the matching set. Alex grinned at her and was about to speak when Thomas decided that the best way he could worship at his newfound temple would be to drop to his knees at the omega's feet, slide the panties slowly down Alex's legs to his ankles (enjoying the excited chittering the action provoked), then take the entire dick into his mouth in one go.

Thomas' tongue was everywhere, and so was Alex. He bit his fist to keep more than the first squeal from escaping his mouth and positively _writhed_ under Thomas' attentions. His chest and arms convulsed like they were possessed, his legs kicked of their own volition; the only thing that didn't move was his hips, as Thomas had them pinned quite forcefully to the wall.

It didn't take long before Alex was orgasming. He gasped and was finally still as he felt himself come down Thomas' throat. But Thomas had learned a thing or two about Alex's abilities in the past week, and stopped just long enough to swallow before continuing his ministrations. Alex moaned low in his throat, almost a wail, as he felt himself growing hard again.

Thomas continued for exactly as long as it took to get Alex fully erect, then stood up. Alex felt weightless, like he was floating, as he watched Thomas undo his own belt buckle.

* * *

Alex looked almost high as Thomas opened the fly of his trousers. Thomas' own head throbbed with pleasure; no pills or shots had done that to his mate. Just him.

Thomas grabbed Alex by the backs of his thighs and lifted him off the ground to brace the omega with his back against the wall. Alex moaned wantonly and wrapped his arms around Thomas' shoulder. Then stiffened.

“The knothead from the bar is here,” he whispered in Thomas' ear.

This changed things. “Are you okay to continue?” he asked.

Alex said nothing, just grinned at Thomas with a mixture of recklessness and determination that Thomas had come to think of as Alex's 'Challenge Accepted' face.

“Let's do this,” Thomas agreed. The thought of that man trying to lay a finger on _his_ mate, on his _mate_...

Thomas buried himself easily inside his mate. Alex chittered again, face stretched into a smile that was almost smug in its bliss, eyes open wide and smiling. But not looking at Thomas. No, looking at someone over Thomas' shoulder. Thomas moaned himself when he realized that Alex was making eye contact with the Alpha, almost taunting him.

“You just love an audience, don't you, Princess?” Thomas growled into Alex's ear as he began to thrust, and took great satisfaction at the shiver that worked its way down Alex's body at the words. “Just want everyone to see what a little whore you are.” He paused for a moment, just to make sure that it was still acceptable to use that word, but Alex was moaning again so he continued. “Want to show that knothead exactly what he's missing, exactly how beautiful you are when you come. Maybe we should invite him back to our place, yeah?” Alex groaned at the thought. “Let him see you face down and ass up on the bed, let him see how good you take me. Or forget him; he's nobody. Maybe we should invite over that omega from the party, Laurens' kid. James? John. Let John watch me knot you up real good.” Alex was almost hyperventilating at the idea. “Then, when I'm finished, let him have his way with that tight little ass while I watch.” That seemed to be the final straw, as Alex came all over his own stomach with a sob.

The sight was enough to set Thomas himself over the edge. With a grunt he felt the familiar ecstasy of his bliss wash over him, felt the almost-relief of his knot swelling, and watched as the world went a familiar shade of euphoria.

Alex was shaking and chittering softly to himself from the overstimulation and exhilaration of the situation, although the man's smile assured Thomas that he wasn't suffering. Still, Thomas held him close and whispered into his ear how beautiful he was and how _loved_ he was, until the knot deflated.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys may have noticed that the countdown to the last chapter has begun. There's only two more chapters after this one! Writing this fic has been fun, but all fun things must end (especially fun things that involve writing 1,500 - 2,000 words a day, lol). The next chapter is a wrap-up, then the last is an epilogue. Don't worry, though; I do have some more plans for this 'verse! We'll see what happens in the future.


	24. The Afterglow

Alex woke the next morning in their bed to find himself naked, with his clothes strewn all over the room. Beside him, Thomas was still wearing his dress shirt, and nothing else; his bare ass peeked adorably out from under the hem. His mate was laying on his stomach, snoring gently into the pillow.

Alex straddled the man and slowly drew his shirt up, kissing and nipping at the skin as it was exposed. Thomas responded by rolling around in Alex's grasp and flipping them both over, so that now Alex was laying on the bed and Thomas was straddling him. Thomas pinned Alex's legs with his own, and captured Alex's wrists and pinned them above the omega's head. Alex chittered happily, excited to see what Thomas would do with him now he was completely at his mercy, but Thomas did nothing. Instead, he gazed lovingly and wonderingly down at his mate, letting his eyes roam over the omega's face and body.

Alex let him look. Somehow, even though they had both seen and thoroughly explored each other over the past week, this felt different. It felt more real, somehow.

“I love you,” Thomas finally said.

Alex would have responded, except that his legs were suddenly seized and thrown over Thomas' shoulders. Thomas used this easier access to spread Alex's cheeks apart and lick his hole. Alex gasped at the sudden sensation, and began to moan as Thomas painted wet stripes all along his hole, up to his scrotum to mouth at the skin there, then licked a long stripe up his shaft and flicked his tongue along the frenulum. That finally set the omega over the edge, and he came all over his bare stomach with a gasp.

Alex made it up to him by getting on his knees in the shower.

* * *

They got dressed and headed to the dining room, where they found the usual selection of cereals and fruits laid out. With one exception.

Alex nuzzled into Thomas. “I love you,” he said, and pecked him on the lips before taking his seat at the table.

By his place setting stood a brand new box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

* * *

Halfway through another one of Alex's mediocre action movies, the omega's phone beeped for an incoming text. Alex read the screen and just started laughing.

“What is it?” Thomas asked, pausing the movie so they could talk without explosions in the background.

“It's Laf – Lafayette, sorry,” Alex said. “He got tired of France, so he's coming back to the States.” Alex shook his head. “He always was too much of an Ameriphile to stay away for very long.”

“Lafayette was your old nestmate, right?” Thomas asked.

“Yeah. Gilbert du Motier. Crazy guy.”

“Wait, Gilbert or Laf?”

Alex laughed again. “Gilbert du Motier is his legal name. Sort of. Actually, it's-” Alex took a moment to make sure he had this right “Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier. But he goes by Lafayette. It's his family's holdings or something.”

“And he's an omega?” Thomas asked.

“And a total diva,” Alex confirmed. “He wants to know if I've found a nestmate yet.”

Thomas shrugged. “He can always stay with us until he finds a place.”

“Absolutely not!” Alex shook his head. “I am not sharing you with another omega!”

Thomas blinked. Had he missed something? “No, not talking about anything sexual,” he cleared up. “We do have a ton of guest rooms, Alex.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Have I ever told you the story of how we ended up nesting together?” he asked.

Thomas scowled. How his mate met his ex wasn't necessarily a favorite topic. “No.”

“We were at a party. Both of us had already had a lot to drink; probably too much. Laf came up to me and told me that I was cute, then asked me if I was seeing anyone. I admitted that I was single at the moment, but that I wanted to find someone to nest with. Next thing I know, he's on his knees with his mouth around my dick. I asked him what he was doing. He says, auditioning.”

“Jesus,” Thomas swore. “What did you do?”

“Enjoyed the ride,” Alex laughed. “Laf's gorgeous. And he has this way of looking at you, these huge puppy eyes. You find yourself doing whatever he wants you to do. No, we let him stay, and I give it only a couple of nights before he's in our bed.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Let him stay at a hotel room, like a sensible person,” Alex said while typing into his phone. “The man's rich, probably richer than you are, so it isn't a problem.”

“We,” Thomas corrected.

“We?” Alex looked up from his phone, confused.

“Richer than _we_ are,” Thomas clarified.

Alex laughed. “Your drunk ass should probably have insisted on a prenup,” he joked.

“No, I shouldn't have,” Thomas replied, not joking along.

Alex paused, then snuggled back into Thomas. “Love you,” he said.

Thomas pulled the omega to him and hit 'Play'.

* * *

“I don't see why we had to come back _here_ , specifically,” Alex said over the top of his Tip Top Diner menu. 

Thomas smiled. “But, Babe,” he said, low enough that no one else could hear, “it was where we had our first date.”

Alex considered, and laughed. “I suppose so,” he agreed somewhat reluctantly. “Hey, Thomas?”

Thomas looked over the top of his own menu.

“Happy week-aversary,” Alex laughed.

Thomas rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop the grin that swept over his face.

The waitress came, and took their orders – a steak and a water for Alex, baked spaghetti and sweet tea for Thomas. She returned with their drinks, and Thomas spent a few minutes trying to get Alex to try his tea, because “if you're going to be a Southerner now, you're going to have to learn to like it!”

“Y'all still have water,” Alex smirked, then paled when he realized what he had just said.

It was too late. “We're getting to you already,” Thomas laughed. “You'll be playing banjo and arguing for states' rights before you know it!”

“No, that's not true,” Alex defended himself. “That's a common contraction, used in places other than the South!”

“I'll have the cook make us up some grits and country ham for breakfast tomorrow.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Why did I bond with you, again?” he groused.

Thomas just grinned. “Because you love me,” he said.

Alex felt his fake-pout melt. “Because I love you,” he agreed.

* * *

Alex's boxer briefs hadn't even landed on the floor yet when he was picked up and tossed onto the bed. He landed on his stomach and tried to prop himself up, but Thomas was there before he had the chance. “Gonna drill you into this mattress,” he growled into his ear. “Gonna make it so you can't walk tomorrow.”

Alex felt himself harden at the words. “Alpha,” he moaned.

“That's right,” Thomas moaned back, flipping him onto his back. “Your Alpha. Your mate.”

“Just you,” Alex agreed as Thomas checked to make sure he was ready, then slid himself into Alex's hole.

Despite the dirty talk, Thomas' motions were gentle, tender. The Alpha wasn't fucking him so much as making love to him. Alex moaned at the slide of Thomas' dick in and out, then gasped when he hit that magic spot within him. Thomas picked up on that gasp immediately, and started hitting it again and again, until Alex was sure that if this continued much longer he would float up to the ceiling.

“Thomas!” he gasped out again as he came.

Thomas wasn't much behind him, filling his hole in that amazing way he did when his knot filled out. It was intoxicating, the feeling of being filled so fully, of being locked into place. He shuttered as his bliss hit him again and again, that incredible sensation just on the right side of  _ too much _ , wracking his body with spasms of pleasure.

As if outside of his body, he felt Thomas gather him in his arms, the way the Alpha always did when they're knotted together. Thomas held him through the tremors, through that amazing high, and peppered his neck with kisses and nuzzles. “I love you,” Thomas whispered into his flesh, and Alex sighs with contentment.

Afterward, as he's falling asleep, the words come off his lips like a promise, like a prayer, a bond stronger than anything he's ever felt. “Love you, too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's enjoyed this story I've been sharing with you guys. This is the last of the regular chapters; tomorrow I'll be uploading an epilogue.


	25. The Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter.

_One Week Later ..._

It felt good to enter the Treasury Building once again. Alex sank into the chair in his office and looked around, a little surprised at just how little had changed. With all the transformations that had happened in his own life during the past two and a half weeks, he felt like an entirely different person, and it felt like his office should reflect that. Instead, here was a bill that he had been working on right before he left, right where he left it, exactly as he left it.

He heard a shuffle, and looked up to find the President standing in the doorway, watching him. “Good morning, sir,” Alex greeted the man.

Washington didn't reply, just stood there for a moment longer, before nodding. “Married life suits you, Hamilton,” the man stated, before turning and leaving.

Alex smiled to himself. He turned to say something to Thomas, before realizing that the man wasn't right there with him. Of course not; it was going to take some time to get used to that, after spending two and a half weeks practically joined at the hip.

Instead, he pulled out his phone and opened the messaging app.

> _**To: Tommy Boi <3  
>  ** Washington's digging the married look. ;D _

* * *

_One Month Later ..._

“Sir?” Alex knocked on Washington's office door to get his attention before entering. The omega walked as straight as he could, ignoring the sheen of sweat that had appeared on his brow and made his palms feel clammy.

“Hamilton; come in.” Washington looked up from his laptop, then frowned when he saw the condition the young Secretary was in. “You don't look too good, Son.”

Washington not calling him “son” had lasted exactly two weeks. Old habits died hard. Surprisingly, it didn't bother Alex anymore; it was just a verbal tick of the President's, indicating affection towards a younger man. Nothing more.

“Sir, I'm here to request some time off,” Alex plowed through, trying to get this out while his voice was still steady.

Washington frowned in confusion, until a look of understanding passed over his face. “Since when do you take off for your heats, Hamilton?” he asked.

“Since Thomas is making me,” Alex admitted, too far gone to bother with things like subtlety.

To his surprise, Washington barked out a laugh; the sound was so unexpected that it made the wound up omega jump. “If I had known Thomas could make you see sense, I would have set you two up years ago.” The man considered. “Or taken you as my own pet.”

Alphas who were bonded to other Alphas – as Washington was to Martha – would often take omegan lovers to fulfill the natural need to protect and dominate. These omegas were often referred to as pets, a slightly vulgar term. Exact details varied from bond to bond – some Alphan bonds swore to never take a pet, others included their pets in the bonding ceremony, and everything in between – but the makeup of each Alphan family was generally accepted by the community as long as it was conducted with complete transparency to the other partner and was acceptable to all involved.

Alex bit back a moan at the thought of Washington's knot in him. “That's great, sir, and we can talk about that later,” he rushed out, “but right now, not so much.”

Washington chuckled at this, apparently taking delight in the entire situation – a fact that Alex would be sure to be offended by later. “Go, then,” he said. “I don't want to see you until the Monday after next.”

Alex sputtered at the command. “Sir, that's ten days!” he said. “I barely need a week!”

“And this is your first heat with an Alpha,” Washington insisted. “Take the time.”

The omega couldn't keep his thoughts together long enough to form a rebuttal. The words just kept slipping through his grasp like sand through fingers. Or something. He'd think of a better metaphor next week. “See you then, bye,” he threw over his shoulder.

* * *

_One year later …_

“You're wearing that? Really?”

Thomas looked down at his tuxedo – a rather attractive shade of purple, he thought – then back up at his mate. “Yes,” he said. “And I got you a matching bowtie and vest.”

“No, nope, nuh-uh,” Alex insisted. “Thomas, that color is hideous.”

“It's vivacious!”

“It's magenta!”

“Excuse you, this fabric color is called 'boysenberry'.”

“Was the fabric maker high? That's magenta!”

“It's boysenberry!”

“It looks like something a seven year old doodled in MS Paint!”

“It's effervescent!”

“It looks like Mardi Gras just threw up all over a perfectly good tuxedo!”

“It's exuberant!”

“It's _hideous_ , no matter how many SAT vocab words you throw around!”

Thomas pouted. “Fine,” he said. “But I have you know, this suit cost a lot of money.”

“Was the tailor laughing behind his hand when he quoted the price?”

Thomas threw up his hands. “Fine, whatever,” he sulked.

A pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind. “I'm sorry, Babe,” Alex said into his shoulder. “I just want you to look good for our first Winter Holiday Ball as a couple.”

Thomas' shoulders relaxed without his permission. “It is our anniversary,” he agreed.

“Today, in fact,” Alex affirmed. “And if you're good? I'll let you use your present when we get home.”

Thomas frowned. Alex had gotten him a beautifully bound dictionary and a bottle of his favorite wine. “What present?”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Alex cooed. “I have another present.”

Thomas turned around, to see Alex go over and get another wrapped box from its hiding place beneath the bed. Thomas would point out how silly of a hiding spot that was, except it had obviously worked. Besides, he wanted to see what was in the box.

What was in the box was two pairs of padded handcuffs.

All annoyance, all flirtiness, left him immediately. He looked up, to find Alex unable to meet his eyes. “Are you sure?” Thomas had to know.

“I trust you,” was Alex's reply.

Trust. It was a great gift to be given, from the omega who had always insisted on not needing an Alpha's help.

Thomas placed the cuffs on the bed, then walked over to kiss his mate.

* * *

_One and a half years later …_

They were sitting quietly in the shared office, each minding his own work, when Alex suddenly burst out laughing.

Thomas spun around, taken aback. “What is it?” he asked the omega.

“Oh, oh, you are not going to believe this!” Alex gasped out.

“What?” Thomas demanded again.

“Lafayette is living with the Washingtons!”

Thomas sat back in his chair, deep in thought. Of course he had met the Frenchman by now; they had seen each other at several functions, and he had tagged along for a couple of the meetings the two omegas had scheduled to catch up. He now understood what Alex had meant, a year or so ago, when he told him that Laf tended to get what he wanted.

It helped that the man was very pretty. Had he asked for a threesome, and Alex had been agreeable, Thomas had no doubt that he would give in.

“Do you think … ?” he asked Alex, who knew both the Washingtons and Lafayette better than Thomas did.

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Alex answered.

“Which one, do you think?” Thomas asked, mind racing.

“Probably Washington. Possibly both.”

Thomas thought about that, Lafayette living as the pet to the most powerful man in the country, possibly entertaining both himself and his wife, possibly even at the same time, and had to laugh with his mate.

* * *

_Two years later …_

“Are you sure?” Thomas asked, staring at the computer screen.

“I'm sure,” Alex replied without hesitation. “It's time.” Instinctively, his hand went to cover his stomach.

The online form had been filled out already, all the information in place. Alex's date and place of birth, gender, endotype (the main reason this was so easy), marital status, race … all sorts of information, laid out on the screen.

The omega hesitated for just a minute, letting the momentous meaning of this step build, before hitting the “Submit” button.

A spiral graphic appeared on the screen and began to swirl in place while the website received and verified the information that had been given it, before loading a confirmation page.

“It's done,” Alex whispered.

Thomas kissed his forehead. “Alexander Jefferson,” he said, trying the name out. “It sounds good.”

Alex smiled at the computer screen, feeling a few solitary tears make their way down his face. “It sounds like home.”

* * *

_Three years later …_

“Aaron Burr, sir!” Alex cried out joyfully when he caught sight of the beta.

“Secretary Jefferson,” Burr answered, smiling. But Alex had known Burr for too long to fall for the façade; he could see the slight tightening around the eyes, the almost-too-wide stretch of the lips, and knew them for a sign of irritation.

“It's just Mr. Jefferson now,” Alex reminded him, knowing full well that the slip had been anything but.

“Of course,” Burr replied smoothly.

The two had attended college together, even been roommates one year. Messy Alex annoyed picky Burr, and usually found impressively passive-aggressive ways to retaliate. It culminated in Burr changing the wifi password and informing Alex that he had written the new password on a post-it note and left the note on Alex's desk, but as the desk was so cluttered he wasn't sure exactly where on the desk he had put the note, not in which pile or even where in the pile he had put it, and if Alex was to start putting things away he was sure to find the note eventually. Alex retaliated by changing the password on Burr's laptop, and then explaining that he had also written the new password on a post-it note, but as he was such a mess of a human being, wasn't sure where he had put that note.

(The note was on the top of the cabinet in the bathroom. The new password was “burrisadick”.)

“How have you been?” Alex asked, putting his arm around the other's shoulder in a way that he knew Burr absolutely hated but couldn't politely object to.

“Been very well, actually,” Burr replied, side-stepping his way out of the embrace. “I recently was bonded, in fact.”

“Oh?” Alex asked, genuinely surprised. Who was desperate enough to bond with Burr?

“You may know him, actually,” Burr continued on, smooth as ever. “John Laurens. He's Senator Laurens' son?”

Alex couldn't help the laugh that escaped his mouth before he even realized it was there. “You and John?” he asked, more than a little surprise.

“I know, we're very different,” Burr conceded. “But … well, the man is very persistent. And affectionate. He flirted with me for quite awhile, and I believed at the time that he was just trying to get a rise from me,” a pause, and a raised brow as a discreet reminder of their shared past, “but over time it became something … more. Now, I keep him grounded and he reminds me that there's nothing wrong with enjoying one's self now and then.”

A small smile, a smile that almost looked genuine, creeped over Burr's face.

And Alex found that he could say nothing bad about something that made Burr smile. “Congratulations, man,” he said again, slapping him on the shoulder one more time, just to see the look of displeasure flit across his face and disappear. Just for old times. 

* * *

_Four years later …_

“How does Madison do it, year after year?” Alex asked, flopping over onto the couch.

“I don't know,” Thomas confessed. “But his Balls are the highlight of the holiday season.”

Alex grunted his agreement, and Thomas smiled. The omega had just attended his fourth, and Thomas knew he had enjoyed himself.

“You know what else I know?” Thomas asked his mate.

“What?” Alex asked, intrigued.

“I know that my sister has the kids until tomorrow afternoon. I know that we have the house all to ourselves.”

Alex took only a moment to process what that meant, before standing abruptly to take off at a dead run. Thomas followed, in hot pursuit. Still, the smaller man evaded him successfully, until a too-tight turn in socked feet sent him crashing to the floor. He tried to recover, and almost succeeded; but then Thomas was on him, dragging him to the ground.

The game wasn't finished, though. Alex knew exactly how to twist and turn, spinning his body like an eel, trying to break Thomas' grasp.

It would have worked, too; except Thomas knew Alex's game, knew exactly how he would move, and ignored the struggles to focus instead on divesting his mate of his clothing, one item at a time.

Somewhere in the struggle, Thomas realized that Alex wasn't struggling _against_ him any longer, but instead of struggling to _help_ him. It happened every time; the omega's excitement over what was to come overcame his natural competitive side.

It ended quickly enough, with a pantsless omega and fully clothed Alpha lying on the floor where they had fallen. Thomas grabbed Alex's hips and pulled him around, so that he was laying on his back. It wasn't necessary to hold Alex pinned at this point; he was too busy chittering in excitement, mewing for Thomas to _hurry up_ while Thomas unbuckled his own trousers and pulled his dick out.

Alex's body molded around him like a glove, like it had been made specifically for him. With a house devoid of staff and children, the omega could be as loud as he wanted; an opportunity he took advantage of to moan throatily when Thomas finally felt himself fully seated in the smaller man, and start begging in several different languages as Thomas began to move.

“Don't stop, don't, _n'arrêtez pas_ , _por favor_ , _s'il te plaît_ , _sigue adelante_ , harder, _más fuerte_ , yes, _ouais_ , yes, _shl sez lhfsik ekhshiu_ , _n'alle pas tu arrêter maintenant_ , yes, yes!”

Even after all this time, the sight of his mate orgasming was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Thomas spared a moment to think about the poor staff at the dry cleaners as Alex came all over his tuxedo coat and cumberbund, but it was a passing thought, as Thomas was soon coming himself.

He leaned down, kissing his gasping mate and holding him close through the now-familiar ritual of the omega's knotting bliss. “I love you,” he whispered into his neck. “So, so much.”

“Love you too,” Alex muttered.

Thomas held Alex close, and thanked whatever gods existed for that night four years ago today that had brought him to such happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, folks, this has been a crazy ride! Twenty-five chapters in twenty-six days is a new record, and a hell of a pace to keep going for almost a month. But it was so much fun, and I'm so glad I did it.
> 
> As you may have seen, I added this work to a brand-new series. I'm not finished with this 'verse yet! New stories will be added to that series, so be sure to subscribe if you want to see what happens next.
> 
> Thank you guys so much for going on such an awesome adventure with me! The kudos and comments I got just made my day, every time. You guys are the best, and I hope to see you all in my next fic.


End file.
